4J6C 


SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 


SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 


Bj 
CAMILLA  KENYON 


luustrateJ  by 
LOUIS  ROGERS 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1919 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


BROOKLYN,    H. 


BRAUNWORTH    4    CO. 
BOOK    MANUFACTURERS 


To  L.  T. 

In  recognition  of  her  faith  in  me. 


21S6577 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  AN  AUNT  ERRANT 1 

II  APOLLO  AND  SOME  OTHERS    ...  16 

III  I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY      ....  25 

IV  THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE 43 

V  THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY    ....  56 

VI  THE  CAVE  WITH  Two  MOUTHS  .     .  82 

VII  A  RABBIT'S  FOOT 95 

VIII  AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM      .  110 

IX  "LASSIE,  LASSIE    ..."....  123 

X  WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      .     .  137 

XI  Miss  BROWNE  HAS  A  VISION     .     .  157 

XII  THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT      .  167 

XIII  I  BRING  TO  LIGHT  A  CLUE      ...  185 

XIV  MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS    ....  193 
XV  SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY      ...  208 

XVI  LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST    .  226 

XVII  FROM  DEAD  HANDS       246 

XVIII  OF  WHICH  COOKIE  Is  THE  HERO   .  255 

XIX  THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES  ...  269 

XX  TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP    .    .    .    .    .  286 

XXI  THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  300 


Spanish  Doubloons 


AN   AUNT   ERRANT 

NEVER  had  life  seemed  more  fair  and  smiling 
than  at  the  moment  when  Aunt  Jane's  letter 
descended  upon  me  like  a  bolt  from  the  blue.  The 
fact  is,  I  was  taking  a  vacation  from  Aunt  Jane.  Be- 
ing an  orphan,  I  was  supposed  to  be  under  Aunt 
Jane's  wing,  but  this  was  the  merest  polite  fiction, 
and  I  am  sure  that  no  hen  with  one  chicken  worries 
about  it  more  than  I  did  about  Aunt  Jane.  I  had 
spent  the  last  three  years,  since  Aunt  Susan  died  and 
left  Aunt  Jane  with  all  that  money  and  no  one  to 
look  after  her  but  me,  in  snatching  her  from  the 
brink  of  disaster.  Her  most  recent  and  narrow 
escape  was  from  a  velvet-tongued  person  of  half  her 
years  who  turned  out  to  be  a  convict  on  parole.  She 
had  her  hand-bag  packed  for  the  elopement  when  I 
confronted  her  with  this  unpleasant  fact.  When  she 
1 


2  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

came  to  she  was  bitter  instead  of  grateful,  and  went 
about  for  weeks  presenting  a  spectacle  of  blighted 
affections  which  was  too  much  for  the  most  self- 
approving  conscience.  So  it  ended  with  my  packing 
her  off  to  New  York,  where  I  wrote  to  her  fre- 
quently and  kindly,  urging  her  not  to  mind  me  but 
to  stay  as  long  as  she  liked. 

Meanwhile  I  came  up  to  the  ranch  for  a  long  holi- 
day with  Bess  and  the  baby,  a  holiday  which  had 
already  stretched  itself  out  to  Thanksgiving,  and 
threatened  to  last  until  Christmas.  People  wrote 
alluringly  from  town,  but  what  had  town  to  offer 
compared  with  a  saddle-horse  to  yourself,  and  a  lit- 
ter of  collie  pups  to  play  with,  and  a  baby  just  learn- 
ing to  walk  ?  I  even  began  to  consider  ranching  as 
a  career,  and  to  picture  myself  striding  over  my 
broad  acres  in  top-boots  and  corduroys. 

As  to  Aunt  Jane,  my  state  of  mind  was  fatuously 
calm.  She  was  staying  with  cousins,  who  live  in  a 
suburb  and  are  frightfully  respectable.  I  was  sure 
they  numbered  no  convicts  among  their  acquaint- 
ance, or  indeed  any  one  from  whom  Aunt  Jane  was 
likely  to  require  rescuing.  And  if  it  came  to  a  re- 
tired missionary  I  was  perfectly  willing. 

But  the  cousins  and  their  respectability  are  of  the 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  3 

passive  order,  whereas  to  manage  Aunt  Jane  de- 
mands aggressive  and  continuous  action.  Hence  the 
bolt  from  the  blue  above  alluded  to. 

I  was  swinging  tranquilly  in  the  hammock,  I  re- 
member, when  Bess  brought  my  letters  and  then  hur- 
ried away  because  the  baby  had  fallen  down-stairs. 
Unwarned  by  the  slightest  premonitory  thrill,  I  kept 
Aunt  Jane's  letter  till  the  last  and  skimmed  through 
all  the  others.  I  should  be  thankful,  I  suppose,  that 
the  peace  soon  to  be  so  rudely  shattered  was  pro- 
longed for  those  few  moments.  I  recalled  after- 
ward, but  dimly,  as  though  a  gulf  of  ages  yawned 
between,  that  I  had  been  quite  interested  in  six  pages 
of  prattle  about  the  Patterson  dance. 

At  last  I  came  to  Aunt  Jane.  I  ripped  open  the 
envelope  and  drew  out  the  letter — a  fat  one,  but  then 
Aunt  Jane's  letters  are  always  fat.  She  says  herself 
that  she  is  of  those  whose  souls  flow  freely  forth  in 
ink  but  are  frozen  by  the  cold  eye  of  an  unsympa- 
thetic listener.  Nevertheless,  as  I  spread  out  the 
close-filled  pages  I  felt  a  mild  wonder.  Writing  so 
large,  so  black,  so  staggering,  so  madly  underlined, 
must  indicate  something  above  even  Aunt  Jane's 
usual  emotional  level.  Perhaps  in  sober  truth  there 
was  a  missionary — 


4  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Twenty  minutes  later  I  staggered  into  Bess's 
room. 

"Hush !"  she  said.    "Don't  wake  the  baby !" 

"Baby  or  no  baby,"  I  whispered  savagely,  "I've 
got  to  have  a  time-table.  I  leave  for  the  city  to- 
night to  catch  the  first  steamer  for  Panama !" 

Later,  while  the  baby  slumbered  and  I  packed,  I 
explained.  This  was  difficult ;  not  that  Bess  is  as  a 
general  thing  obtuse,  but  because  the  picture  of  Aunt 
Jane  embarking  for  some  wild,  lone  isle  of  the  Pa- 
cific as  the  head  of  a  treasure-seeking  expedition  was 
enough  to  shake  the  strongest  intellect.  And  yet, 
amid  the  welter  of  ink  and  eloquence  which  filled 
those  fateful  pages,  there  was  the  cold  hard  fact  con- 
fronting you.  Aunt  Jane  was  going  to  look  for 
buried  treasure,  in  company  with  one  Violet  Hig- 
glesby-Browne,  whom  she  sprung  on  you  without 
the  slightest  explanation,  as  though  alluding  to  the 
Queen  of  Sheba  or  the  Siamese  twins.  By  begin- 
ning at  the  end  and  reading  backward — Aunt  Jane's 
letters  are  usually  most  intelligible  that  way — you 
managed  to  piece  together  some  explanation  of  this 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne  and  her  place  in  the  scheme 
of  things.  It  was  through  Miss  Browne,  whom  she 
had  met  at  a  lecture  upon  Soul-Development,  that 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  5 

Aunt  Jane  had  come  to  realize  her  claims  as  an  In- 
dividual upon  the  Cosmos,  also  to  discover  that  she 
was  by  nature  a  woman  of  affairs  with  a  talent  for 
directing  large  enterprises,  although  adverse  in- 
fluences had  hitherto  kept  her  from  recognizing  her 
powers.  There  was  a  dark  significance  in  these 
italics,  though  whether  they  meant  me  or  the  family 
lawyer  I  was  not  sure. 

Miss  Higglesby-Browne,  however,  had  assisted 
Aunt  Jane  to  find  herself,  and  as  a  consequence  Aunt 
Jane,  for  the  comparatively  trifling  outlay  needful  to 
finance  the  Harding-Browne  expedition,  would 
shortly  be  the  richer  by  one- fourth  of  a  vast  treasure 
of  Spanish  doubloons.  The  knowledge  of  this  hoard 
was  Miss  Higglesby-Browne's  alone.  It  had  been 
revealed  to  her  by  a  dying  sailor  in  a  London  hos- 
pital, whither  she  had  gone  on  a  mission  of  kindness 
— you  gathered  that  Miss  Browne  was  precisely  the 
sort  to  take  advantage  when  people  were  helpless 
and  unable  to  fly  from  her.  Why  the  dying  sailor 
chose  to  make  Miss  Browne  the  repository  of  his 
secret,  I  don't  know — this  still  remains  for  me  the 
unsolved  mystery.  But  when  the  sailor  closed  his 
eyes  the  secret  and  the  map — of  course  there  was  a 
map — had  become  Miss  Higglesby-Browne's. 


6  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Miss  Browne  now  had  clear  before  her  the  road  to 
fortune,  but  unfortunately  it  led  across  the  sea  and 
quite  out  of  the  route  of  steamer  travel.  Capital 
in  excess  of  Miss  Browne's  resources  was  required. 
London  proving  cold  before  its  great  opportunity, 
Miss  Browne  had  shaken  off  its  dust  and  come  to 
New  York,  where  a  mysteriously  potent  influence 
had  guided  her  to  Aunt  Jane.  Through  Miss 
Browne's  great  organizing  abilities,  not  to  speak  of 
those  newly  brought  to  light  in  Aunt  Jane,  a  party  of 
staunch  comrades  had  been  assembled,  a  steamer  en- 
gaged to  meet  them  at  Panama,  and  it  was  ho,  for 
the  island  in  the  blue  Pacific  main ! 

With  this  lyrical  outburst  Aunt  Jane  concluded 
the  body  of  her  letter.  A  small  cramped  post-script 
informed  me  that  it  was  against  Miss  H.-B.'s  wishes 
that  she  revealed  their  plans  to  any  one,  but  that  she 
did  want  to  hear  from  me  before  they  sailed  from 
Panama,  where  a  letter  might  reach  her  if  I  was 
prompt  However,  if  it  did  not  she  would  try  not 
to  worry,  for  Miss  Browne  was  very  psychic,  and 
she  felt  sure  that  any  strong  vibration  from  me 
would  reach  her  via  Miss  B.,  and  she  was  my  always 
loving  Jane  Harding. 

"And  of  course,"  I  explained  to  Bess  as  I  hurled 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  7 

things  into  my  bags,  "if  a  letter  can  reach  her  so  can 
I.  At  least  I  must  take  the  chance  of  it.  What  those 
people  are  up  to  I  don't  know — probably  they  mean 
to  hold  her  for  ransom  and  murder  her  outright  if  it 
is  not  forthcoming.  Or  perhaps  some  of  them  will 
marry  her  and  share  the  spoils  with  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne.  Anyway,  I  must  get  to  Panama  in  time  to 
save  her." 

"Or  you  might  go  along  to  the  island/'  suggested 
Bess. 

I  paused  to  glare  at  her. 

"Bess !    And  let  them  murder  me  too?" 

"Or  marry  you — "  cooed  Bess. 

One  month  later  I  was  climbing  out  of  a  lumber- 
ing hack  before  the  Tivoli  hotel,  which  rises  square 
and  white  and  imposing  on  the  low  green  height 
above  the  old  Spanish  city  of  Panama.  In  spite  of 
the  melting  tropical  heat  there  was  a  chill  fear  at  my 
heart,  the  fear  that  Aunt  Jane  and  her  band  of  treas- 
ure-seekers had  already  departed  on  their  quest.  In 
that  case  I  foresaw  that  whatever  narrow  margin  of 
faith  my  fellow-voyagers  on  the  City  of  Quito  had 
had  in  me  would  shrink  to  nothingness.  I  had  been 
obliged  to  be  so  queer  and  clam-like  about  the  whole 
extraordinary  rendezvous — for  how  could  I  expose 


8  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Aunt  Jane's  madness  to  the  multitude  ? — that  I  felt 
it  would  take  the  actual  bodily  presence  of  my  aunt 
to  convince  them  that  she  was  not  a  myth,  or  at  least 
of  the  wrong  sex  for  aunts.  To  have  traveled  so  far 
in  the  desperate  hope  of  heading  off  Aunt  Jane,  only 
to  be  frustrated  and  to  lose  my  character  besides !  It 
would  be  a  stroke  too  much  from  fate,  I  told  my- 
self rebelliously,  as  I  crossed  the  broad  gallery  and 
plunged  into  the  cool  dimness  of  the  lobby  in  the 
wake  of  the  bellboys  who,  discerning  a  helpless  prey, 
had  swooped  en  masse  upon  my  bags. 

"Miss  Jane  Harding?"  repeated  the  clerk,  and  at 
the  cool  negation  of  his  tone  my  heart  gave  a  sick- 
ening downward  swoop.  "Miss  Jane  Harding  and 
party  have  left  the  hotel !" 

"For — for  the  island  ?"  I  gasped. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows.  "Can't  say,  I'm  sure." 
He  gave  me  an  appraising  stare.  Perhaps  the  woe 
in  my  face  touched  him,  for  he  descended  from  the 
eminence  of  the  hotel  clerk  where  he  dwelt  apart 
sufficiently  to  add,  "Is  it  important  that  you  should 
see  her?" 

"I  am  her  niece.  I  have  come  all  the  way  from 
San  Francisco  expecting  to  join  her  here." 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  9 

The  clerk  meditated,  his  shrewd  eyes  piercing  the 
very  secrets  of  my  soul. 

"She  knew  nothing  about  it,"  I  hastened  to  add. 
"I  intended  it  for  a  surprise." 

This  candor  helped  my  cause.  "Well,"  he  said, 
"that  explains  her  not  leaving  any  word.  As  you  are 
her  niece,  I  suppose  it  will  do  no  harm  to  tell  you  that 
Miss  Harding  and  her  party  embarked  this  morning 
on  the  freighter  Rufus  Smith,  and  I  think  it  very 
likely  that  the  steamer  has  not  left  port.  If  you  like  I 
will  send  a  man  to  the  water-front  with  you  and  you 
may  be  able  to  go  on  board  and  have  a  talk  with  your 
aunt." 

Did  I  thank  him?  I  have  often  wondered  when  I 
waked  up  in  the  night.  I  have  a  vision  of  myself 
dashing  out  of  the  hotel,  and  then  the  hack  that 
brought  me  is  bearing  me  away.  Bellboys  hurled  my 
bags  in  after  me,  and  I  threw  them  largess  reck- 
lessly. Some  arch-bellboy  or  other  potentate  had 
mounted  to  the  seat  beside  the  driver.  Madly  we 
clattered  over  cobbled  ways.  Out  on  the  smooth 
waters  of  the  roadstead  lay  ships  great  and  small, 
ships  with  stripped  masts  and  smokeless  funnels, 
others  with  faint  gray  spirals  wreathing  upward 


10  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

from  their  stacks.  Was  one  of  these  the  Rufus 
Smith,  and  would  I  reach  her — or  him — before  the 
thin  gray  feather  became  a  thick  black  plume?  I 
thought  of  my  aunt  at  the  mercy  of  these  unknown 
adventurers  with  whom  she  had  set  forth,  helpless 
as  a  little  fat  pigeon  among  hawks,  and  I  felt,  des- 
perately, that  I  must  reach  her,  must  save  her  from 
them  and  bring  her  safe  back  to  shore.  How  I  was 
to  do  this  at  the  eleventh  hour  plus  about  fifty-seven 
minutes  as  at  present  I  hadn't  considered.  But  expe- 
rience had  taught  me  that  once  in  my  clutches  Aunt 
Jane  would  offer  about  as  much  resistance  as  a 
slightly  melted  wax  doll.  She  gets  so  soft  that  you 
are  almost  afraid  to  touch  her  for  fear  of  leaving 
dents. 

So  to  get  there,  get  there,  get  there,  was  the  one 
prayer  of  my  soul. 

I  got  there,  in  a  boat  hastily  commandeered  by 
the  hotel  clerk's  deputy.  I  suppose  he  thought  me 
a  behted  passenger  for  the  Rufus  Smith,  for  my 
baggage  followed  me  into  the  boat.  "Pronto!"  he 
shouted  to  the  native  boatman  as  we  put  off. 
"Pronto!"  I  urged  at  intervals,  my  eyes  upon  the 
funnels  of  the  Rufus  Smith,  where  the  outpouring 
smoke  was  thickening  alarmingly.  We  brought  up 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  11 

under  the  side  of  the  little  steamer,  and  the  wide 
surprised  face  of  a  Swedish  deckhand  stared  down 
at  us. 

"Let  me  aboard !  I  must  come  aboard !"  I  cried. 

Other  faces  appeared,  then  a  rope-ladder.  Some- 
how I  was  mounting  it — a  dizzy  feat  to  which  only 
the  tumult  of  my  emotions  made  me  indifferent. 
Bare  brawny  arms  of  sailors  clutched  at  me  and 
drew  me  to  the  deck.  There  at  once  I  was  the  cen- 
ter of  a  circle  of  speechless  and  astonished  persons, 
all  men  but  one. 

"Well?"  demanded  a  large  breezy  voice.  "What's 
this  mean?  What  do  you  want  aboard  my  ship?" 

I  looked  up  at  a  red- faced  man  in  a  large  straw 
hat. 

"I  want  my  aunt/'  I  explained. 

"Your  aunt  ?"  he  roared.  "Why  the  devil  should 
you  think  I've  got  your  aunt  ?" 

"You  have  got  her,"  I  replied  with  firmness.  "I 
don't  see  her,  but  she's  here  somewhere." 

The  captain  of  the  Rufus  Smith  shook  two  large 
red  fists  above  his  head. 

"Another  lunatic !"  he  shouted.  "I'd  as  soon  have 
a  white  horse  and  a  minister  aboard  as  to  go  to  sea 
in  a  floating  bedlam !" 


12  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

As  the  captain's  angry  thunder  died  away  came 
the  small  anxious  voice  of  Aunt  Jane. 

"What's  the  matter?  Oh,  please  tell  me  what's 
the  matter!"  she  was  saying  as  she  edged  her  way 
into  the  group.  In  her  severely  cut  khaki  suit  she 
looked  like  a  plump  little  dumpling  that  had  got 
into  a  sausage  wrapping  by  mistake.  Her  eyes, 
round,  pale,  blinking  a  little  in  the  tropical  glare, 
roved  over  the  circle  until  they  lit  on  me.  Right 
where  she  stood  Aunt  Jane  petrified.  She  endeav- 
ored to  shriek,  but  achieved  instead  only  a  strangled 
wheeze.  Her  poor  little  chin  dropped  until  it  disap- 
peared altogether  in  the  folds  of  her  plump  neck, 
and  she  remained  speechless,  stricken,  immobile  as  a 
wax  figure  in  an  exhibition. 

"Aunt  Jane,"  I  said,  "you  must  come  right  back  to 
shore  with  me."  I  spoke  calmly,  for  unless  you  are 
perfectly  calm  with  Aunt  Jane  you  fluster  her. 

She  replied  only  by  a  slight  gobbling  in  her  throat, 
but  the  other  woman  spoke  in  a  loud  voice,  addressed 
not  to  me  but  to  the  universe  in  general. 

"The  Young  Person  is  mad !"  It  was  an  unmis- 
takably British  intonation. 

This  then  was  Miss  Violet  Higglesby-Browne.  I 
saw  a  grim,  bony,  stocky  shape,  in  a  companion  cos- 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  13 

tume  to  my  aunt's.  Around  the  edges  of  her  cork 
helmet  her  short  iron-gray  hair  visibly  bristled.  She 
had  a  massive  head,  and  a  seamed  and  rugged  coun- 
tenance which  did  its  best  to  live  down  the  humilia- 
tion of  a  ridiculous  little  nose  with  no  bridge.  By 
what  prophetic  irony  she  had  been  named  Violet  is 
the  secret  of  those  powers  which  seem  to  love  a 
laugh  at  mankind's  expense. 

But  what  riveted  my  eyes  was  the  deadly  glare 
with  which  hers  were  turned  on  me.  I  saw  that  not 
only  was  she  as  certain  of  my  identity  as  though  she 
had  guided  me  from  my  first  tottering  steps,  but 
that  in  a  flash  she  had  grasped  my  motives,  aims  and 
purposes,  and  meant  once  for  all  to  face,  out-general 
and  defeat  me  with  great  slaughter. 

So  she  announced  to  the  company  with  delibera- 
tion, "The  Young  Person  is  mad!" 

It  nettled  me  extremely. 

"Mad !"  I  flung  back  at  her.  "Because  I  wish  to 
save  my  poor  aunt  from  such  a  situation  as  this?  It 
would  be  charitable  to  infer  madness  in  those  who 
have  led  her  into  it !"  When  I  reviewed  this  speech 
afterward  I  realized  that  it  was  not,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, the- best  calculated  to  win  me  friends. 

"Jane !"  said  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  in  deep  and 


14  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

awful  tones,  "the  time  has  come  to  prove  your 
strength !" 

Aunt  Jane  proved  it  by  uttering  a  shrill  yelp,  and 
clutching  her  hair  with  a  reckless  disregard  of  its 
having  originally  been  that  of  a  total  stranger.  So 
severe  were  her  shrieks  and  struggles  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  she  was  borne  below  in  the  arms 
of  two  strong  men. 

I  had  seen  Aunt  Jane  in  hysterics  before — she  had 
them  that  time  about  the  convict.  I  was  not  fright- 
ened, but  I  hurried  after  her — neck  and  neck  with 
Miss  Browne.  It  was  fifteen  minutes  before  Aunt 
Jane  came  to,  and  then  she  would  only  moan.  I 
bathed  her  head,  and  held  her  hand,  and  did  all  the 
regulation  things,  tinder  the  baleful  eye  of  Miss 
Browne,  who  steadfastly  refused  to  go  away,  but  sat 
glaring  like  a  gorgon  who  sees  her  prey  about  to  be 
snatched  from  her. 

In  the  midst  of  my  ministrations  I  awoke  sud- 
denly to  a  rhythmic  heave  and  throb  which  pervaded 
the  ship.  Dropping  Aunt  Jane's  hand  I  rushed  on 
deck.  There  lay  the  various  pieces  of  my  baggage, 
and  in  the  distance  the  boat  with  the  two  brown 
rowers  was  skipping  shoreward  over  the  ripples. 


AN  AUNT  ERRANT  15 

As  for  the  Rufus  Smith,  she  was  under  weigh,  and 
heading  out  of  the  roadstead  for  the  open  sea. 

I  dashed  aft  to  the  captain,  who  stood  issuing  or- 
ders in  the  voice  of  an  aggrieved  fog-horn. 

"Captain !"  I  cried,  "wait ;  turn  around !  You  must 
put  my  aunt  and  me  ashore !" 

He  whirled  on  me,  showing  a  crimson  angry  face. 
"Turn  around,  is  it,  turn  around  ?"  he  shouted.  "Do 
you  suppose  I  can  loaf  about  the  harbor  here 
a-waitin'  on  your  aunt's  fits?  You  come  aboard 
without  me  askin'.  Now  you  can  go  along  with  the 
rest.  This  here  ship  has  got  her  course  set  for 
Frisco,  pickin'  up  Leeward  Island  on  the  way,  and 
anybody  that  ain't  goin'  in  that  direction  is  welcome 
to  jump  overboard." 

That  is  how  I  happened  to  go  to  Leeward  Island. 


II 


APOLLO  AND  SOME  OTHERS 

THE  Rufus  Smith,  tramp  freighter,  had  been 
chartered  to  convey  the  Harding-Browne  ex- 
pedition to  Leeward  Island,  which  lies  about  three 
hundred  miles  west  of  Panama,  and  could  be  picked 
up  by  the  freighter  in  her  course.  She  was  a  little 
dingy  boat  with  such  small  accommodation  that  I 
can  not  imagine  where  the  majority  of  her  passen- 
gers stowed  themselves  away.  My  aunt  and  Miss 
Browne  had  a  stateroom  between  them  the  size  of  a 
packing-box,  and  somebody  turned  out  and  resigned 
another  to  me.  I  retired  there  to  dress  for  dinner 
after  several  dismal  hours  spent  in  attendance  on 
Aunt  Jane,  who  had  passed  from  great  imaginary 
suffering  into  the  quite  genuine  anguish  of  seasick- 
ness. In  the  haste  of  my  departure  from  San  Fran- 
cisco I  had  not  brought  a  trunk,  so  the  best  I  was 
able  to  produce  in  the  way  of  a  crusher  for  Miss 
Higglesby-Browne  and  her  fellow-passengers  was  a 
cool  little  white  gown,  which  would  shine  at  least  by 
16 


APOLLO  AND  SOME  OTHERS         17 

contrast  with  Miss  Browne's  severely  utilitarian  cos- 
tume. White  is  becoming  to  my  hair,  which  nar- 
row-minded persons  term  red,  but  which  has  been 
known  to  cause  the  more  discriminating  to  draw 
heavily  on  the  dictionary  for  adjectives.  My  face  is 
small  and  heart-shaped,  with  features  strictly  for  use 
and  not  for  ornament,  but  fortunately  inconspicuous. 
As  for  my  eyes,  I  think  tawny  quite  the  nicest  word, 
though  Aunt  Jane  calls  them  hazel  and  I  have  even 
heard  whispers  of  green. 

Five  minutes  after  the  gong  sounded  I  walked  into 
the  cabin.  Miss  Browne,  Captain  Watkins  of  the 
freighter,  and  half  a  dozen  men  were  already  at  the 
table.  I  slid  unobtrusively  into  the  one  vacant  place, 
fortunately  remote  from  the  captain,  who  glared  at 
me  savagely,  as  though  still  embittered  by  the  recol- 
lection of  my  aunt's  fits. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Miss  Browne  in  icy  tones, 
"Miss  Virginia  Harding." 

Two  of  the  men  rose,  the  others  stared  and 
ducked.  Except  for  Miss  Browne  and  the  captain, 
I  had  received  on  coming  aboard  only  the  most 
blurred  impression  of  my  fellow-voyagers.  I  remem- 
bered them  merely  as  a  composite  of  khaki  and  cork 
helmets  and  astounded  staring  faces.  But  I  felt  that 


18  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

as  the  abetters  of  Miss  Browne  a  hostile  and  sinister 
atmosphere  enveloped  them  all. 

Being  thus  in  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  I  sat  down 
in  silence  and  devoted  myself  to  my  soup.  The  ma- 
jority of  my  companions  did  likewise — audibly.  But 
presently  I  heard  a  voice  at  my  left : 

"I  say,  what  a  jolly  good  sailor  you  seem  to  be — 
pity  your  aunt's  not !" 

I  looked  up  and  saw  Apollo  sitting  beside  me.  Or 
rather,  shall  I  say  a  young  man  who  might  have 
walked  straight  out  of  an  advertisement  for  a  ready- 
made  clothing  house,  so  ideal  and  impossible  was  his 
beauty.  He  was  very  tall — I  had  to  tilt  my  chin 
quite  painfully  to  look  up  at  him — and  from  the 
loose  collar  of  his  silk  shirt  his  throat  rose  like  a 
column.  His  skin  was  a  beautiful  clear  pink  and 
white  just  tinged  with  tan — like  a  meringue  that  has 
been  in  the  oven  for  two  minutes  exactly.  He  had 
a  straight,  chiseled  profile  and  his  hair  was  thick 
and  chestnut  and  wavy  and  he  had  clear  sea-gray 
eyes.  To  give  him  at  once  his  full  name  and  titles, 
he  was  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  Patrick  Ruthmore 
Vane,  of  High  Staunton  Manor,  Kent,  England. 
But  as  I  was  ignorant  of  this,  I  can  truthfully  say 
that  his  looks  stunned  me  purely  on  their  own  merits. 


APOLLO  AND  SOME  OTHERS         19 

Outwardly  calm,  I  replied,  "Yes,  it's  too  bad,  but 
then  who  ever  dreamed  that  Aunt  Jane  would  go  ad- 
venturing at  her  time  of  life?  I  thought  nobody 
over  the  age  of  thirteen,  and  then  boys,  ever  went 
treasure-hunting." 

"Ah,  but  lads  of  thirteen  couldn't  well  come  such 
a  distance  on  their  own,  you  know,"  returned  Apollo, 
with  the  kindest  air  of  making  allowance  for  the  fe- 
male intellect. 

I  hurriedly  turned  the  subject. 

"I  really  can't  imagine  Aunt  Jane  on  a  desert 
island.  You  should  see  her  behave  on  the  mere 
suspicion  of  a  mouse !  What  will  she  do  if  she  meets 
a  cannibal  and  he  tries  to  eat  her?" 

"Oh,  really,  now,"  argued  the  paragon  earnestly, 
"I'm  quite  sure  there's  no  danger  of  that,  don't  you 
know?  I  believe  there  are  no  natives  at  all  on  the 
island,  or  else  quite  tame  ones,  I  forget  which,  and 
here  are  four  of  us  chaps,  with  no  end  of  revolvers 
and  things — shooting-irons,  as  you  call  them  in 
America.  Mr.  Shaw — sitting  opposite  Miss  Browne, 
you  know — is  rather  running  things,  so  if  you  feel 
nervous  you  should  talk  to  him.  Was  with  the 
South  Polar  Expedition  and  all  that — knows  no  end 
about  this  sort  of  thing — wouldn't  for  a  moment 


20  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

think  of  letting  ladies  run  the  risk  of  being  eaten. 
Really  I  hope  you  aren't  in  a  funk  about  the  canni- 
bals— especially  as  with  so  many  missionary  Johnnies 
about  they  are  most  likely  all  converted." 

"It's  so  comforting  to  think  of  it  in  that  light!" 
I  said  fervently.  At  the  same  time  I  peeped  around 
Apollo  for  a  glimpse  of  the  experienced  Mr.  Shaw. 
I  saw  a  strong- featured,  weather-beaten  profile,  the 
face  of  a  man  somewhere  in  his  thirties,  and  looking, 
from  this  side  view  at  least,  not  only  stern  but  grim. 
He  was  talking  quietly  to  the  captain,  whose  man- 
ner toward  him  was  almost  civil. 

I  made  up  my  mind  at  once  that  the  backbone  of 
the  party,  and  inevitably  the  leader  in  its  projected 
villainies,  whatever  they  might  be,  was  this  rugged- 
looking  Mr.  Shaw.  You  couldn't  fancy  him  as  the 
misled  follower  of  anybody,  even  the  terrific  Violet. 

As  it  seemed  an  unpropitious  moment  for  taking 
counsel  with  Mr.  Shaw  about  cannibals,  I  tried  an- 
other tack  with  the  beautiful  youth  at  my  side. 

"How  did  you  like  Panama?  I  fancy  the  old  town 
is  very  picturesque." 

"Oh,  rather !"  assented  Mr.  Vane.  "At  least,  that 
is  what  those  painter  chaps  call  it — met  a  couple  of 
'em  at  the  hotel.  Beastly  little  narrow  streets  and 


APOLLO  AND  SOME  OTHERS         21 

houses  in  a  shocking  state  and  all  that.  I  like  to  see 
property  kept  up,  myself." 

"I  am  afraid,"  I  said  severely,  "that  you  are  a 
philistine !" 

He  blinked  a  little.  "Ah — quite  so!"  he  mur- 
mured, recovering  himself  gallantly.  "One  of  those 
chaps  that  backed  Goliath  against  David,  what  ?" 

From  this  conversational  impasse  we  were  rescued 
by  the  interposition  of  the  gentleman  opposite,  whose 
small  twinkling  eyes  had  been  taking  me  in  with  in- 
tentness. 

"I  did  some  flittin'  about  that  little  old  burg  on 
my  own  hook,"  he  informed  us,  "and  what  I  got  to 
say  is,  it  needs  wakin'  up.  Yes,  sir,  a  bunch  of  live 
ones  from  the  U.  S.  A.  would  shake  up  that  little  old 
graveyard  so  you  wouldn't  know  it.  I  might  have 
took  a  hand  in  it  myself,  if  I  hadn't  have  met  up  with 
Miss  Browne  and  your  a'nt.  Yes,  sir,  I  had  a  slick 
little  proposition  or  two  up  my  sleeve.  Backed 
by  some  of  the  biggest  capital  in  the  U.  S.  A. — in 
fact,  there's  a  bunch  of  fellers  up  there  in  God's 
country  that's  pretty  sore  on  old  H.  H.  for  passin' 
things  up  this  way.  Kep'  the  wires  hummin'  for 
two-three  days,  tilfthey  seen  I  wasn't  to  be  switched, 
and  then  the  Old  Man  himself — no  use  mentioning 


22  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

names,  but  I  guess  you  know  who  I  mean — Wall 
Street  would,  quick  enough,  anyway — the  Old  Man 
himself  threatened  to  put  his  yacht  in  commission 
and  come  down  to  find  out  what  sort  of  little  game 
H.  H.  was  playin'  on  him.  But  I  done  like  Br'er 
Rabbit — jes  lay  low.  Hamilton  H.  Tubbs  knows  a 
good  thing  when  he  sees  it  about  as  quick  as  the  next 
one — and  he  knows  enough  to  keep  mum  about  it 
too!" 

"None  can  appreciate  more  profoundly  than  my- 
self your  ability  to  maintain  that  reserve  so  neces- 
sary to  the  success  of  this  expedition,"  remarked 
Miss  Browne  weightily  from  the  far  end  of  the  ta- 
ble. "It  is  to  be  wished  that  other  members  of  our 
party,  though  tenderly  esteemed,  and  never  more 
than  now  when  weakness  of  body  temporarily  over- 
powers strength  of  soul,  had  shared  your  powers  of 
secrecy !" 

This  shaft  was  aimed  quite  obviously  at  me,  and 
as  at  the  moment  I  could  think  of  nothing  in  reply 
short  of  hurling  a  plate  I  sank  into  a  silence  which 
seemed  to  be  contagious,  for  it  spread  throughout 
the  table.  Three  or  four  rough-looking  men,  of 
whom  one,  a  certain  Captain  Magnus,  belonged  to 


APOLLO  AND  SOME  OTHERS        23 

our  party  and  the  rest  to  the  ship,  continued  vigor- 
ously to  hack  their  way  through  the  meal  with  clat- 
tering knives  and  forks.  Of  other  sounds  there 
was  none.  Such  gloom  weighed  heavily  on  the 
genial  spirit  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  and  he  lightened  it  by 
rising  to  propose  a  toast. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  to  her  now  unfortunately 
laid  low  by  the  pangs  of  mal  de  mer — our  friend 
and  bony  dear,  Miss  Harding!" 

This  was  bewildering,  for  neither  by  friend  nor 
foe  could  Aunt  Jane  be  called  bony.  Later,  in  the 
light  of  Mr.  Tubbs's  passion  for  classical  allusion, 
I  decided  to  translate  it  bona  dea,  and  consider  the 
family  complimented.  At  the  moment  I  sat  stunned, 
but  Miss  Browne,  with  greater  self-possession,  ma- 
jestically inclined  her  head  and  said: 

"In  the  name  of  our  absent  friend,  I  thank  you." 

In  spite  of  wistful  looks  from  the  beautiful  youth 
as  we  rose  from  the  table,  and  the  allurement  of  a 
tropic  moon,  I  remained  constant  to  duty  and  Aunt 
Jane,  and  immured  myself  in  her  stateroom,  where 
I  passed  an  enlivening  evening  listening  to  her 
moans.  She  showed  a  faint  returning  spark  of  life 
when  I  mentioned  Cuthbert  Vane,  and  raised  her 


24  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

head  to  murmur  that  he  was  Honorable  and  she  un- 
derstood though  not  the  heir  still  likely  to  inherit 
and  perhaps  after  all  Providence — 

The  unspoken  end  of  Aunt  Jane's  sentence  pur- 
sued me  into  dreams  in  which  an  unknown  gentle- 
man obligingly  broke  his  neck  riding  to  hounds  and 
left  Apollo  heir  to  the  title  and  estates. 


Ill 

I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY 

IT  WAS  fortunate  that  I  slept  well  in  my  narrow 
berth  on  board  the  Rufus  Smith,  for  the  next 
day  was  one  of  trial.  Aunt  Jane  had  recovered  what 
Mr.  Tubbs,  with  deprecating  coughs  behind  his  hand, 
alluded  to  as  her  sea-legs,  and  staggered  forth  wanly, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  Miss  Higglesby-Browne.  Yes, 
of  Miss  Browne,  while  I,  Aunt  Jane's  own  niece, 
trotted  meekly  in  the  rear  with  a  cushion.  Already 
I  had  begun  to  realize  how  fatally  I  had  underrated 
the  lady  of  the  hyphen,  in  imagining  I  had  only  to 
come  and  see  and  conquer  Aunt  Jane.  The  grim 
and  bony  one  had  made  hay  while  the  sun  shone — 
while  I  was  idling  in  California,  and  those  crim- 
inally supine  cousins  were  allowing  Aunt  Jane  to  run 
about  New  York  at  her  own  wild  will.  Miss  Hig- 
glesby-Browne had  her  own  collar  and  tag  on  Aunt 
Jane  now,  while  she,  so  complete  was  her  perversion, 
fairly  hugged  her  slavery  and  called  it  freedom. 
Yes,  she  talked  about  her  Emancipation  and  her 
25 


26  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Soul- force  and  her  Individuality,  prattling  away  like 
a  child  that  has  learned  its  lesson  well. 

"Mercy,  aunty,  what  long  words !"  I  cried  gaily, 
sitting  down  beside  her  and  patting  her  hand. 
Usually  I  can  do  anything  with  her  when  I  pet  her 
up  a  bit.  But  the  eye  of  Miss  Higglesby-Browne 
was  on  her — and  Aunt  Jane  actually  drew  a  little 
away. 

"Really,  Virginia,"  she  said,  feebly  endeavoring 
to  rise  to  the  occasion  as  she  knew  Miss  Browne 
would  have  her  rise,  "really,  while  it's  very  nice  to 
see  you  and  all  that,  still  I  hope  you  realize  that  I 
have  had  a — a  deep  Soul-experience,  and  that  I  am 
no  longer  to  be — trifled  with  and — and  treated  as  if 
I  were — amusing.  I  am  really  at  a  loss  to  imagine 
why  you  came.  I  wrote  you  that  I  was  in  the  com- 
pany of  trusted  friends." 

"Friends?"  I  echoed  aggrievedly.  "Friends  are 
all  very  well,  of  course,  but  when  you  and  I  have  just 
each  other,  aunty,  I  think  it  is  unkind  of  you  to  ex- 
pect me  to  stay  thousands  of  miles  away  from  you 
all  by  myself." 

"But  it  was  you  who  sent  me  to  New  York,  and 
insisted  on  my  staying  there !"  she  cried.  Evidently 
she  had  been  living  over  her  wrongs. 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  27 

"Yes — but  how  different!"  I  interrupted  hastily. 
"There  were  the  cousins — of  course  I  have  to  spare 
you  sometimes  to  the  rest  of  the  family!"  Aunt 
Jane  is  strong  on  family  feeling,  and  frequently  re- 
proaches me  with  my  lack  of  it. 

But  in  expecting  Aunt  Jane  to  soften  at  this  I 
reckoned  without  Miss  Higglesby-Browne.  A  dart 
from  the  cold  gray  eyes  galvanized  my  aunt  into  a 
sudden  rigid  erectness. 

"My  dear  Virginia,"  she  said  with  quavering  se- 
verity, "let  me  remind  you  that  there  are  ties  even 
dearer  than  those  of  blood — soul-affinities,  you 
know,  and — and,  in  short,  in  my  dear  friend  Miss 
Higglesby-Browne  I  have  met  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life  with  a — a  Sympathetic  Intelligence  that  un- 
derstands Me!" 

So  that  was  Violet's  line!  I  surveyed  the  Sym- 
pathetic Intelligence  with  a  smiling  interest. 

"Really,  how  nice !  And  of  course  you  feel  quite 
sure  that  on  your  side  you  thoroughly  understand 
— Miss  Higglesby-Browne  ?" 

Miss  Browne's  hair  was  rather  like  a  clothes- 
brush  in  her  mildest  moods.  In  her  rising  wrath  it 
seemed  to  quiver  like  a  lion's  mane. 

"Miss  Harding,"  she  said,  in  the  chest-tones  she 


28  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

reserved  for  critical  moments,  "has  a  nature  impos- 
sible to  deceive,  because  itself  incapable  of  deception. 
Miss  Harding  and  I  first  met — on  this  present  plane 
— in  an  atmosphere  unusually  favorable  to  soul-rev- 
elation. I  knew  at  once  that  here  was  the  appointed 
comrade,  while  in  Miss  Harding  there  was  the  im- 
mediate recognition  of  a  complementary  spiritual 
force." 

"It's  perfectly  true,  Virginia,"  exclaimed  Aunt 
Jane,  beginning  to  cry.  "You  and  Susan  and  every- 
body have  always  treated  me  as  if  I  were  a  child  and 
didn't  know  what  I  wanted,  when  the  fact  is  I  al- 
ways have  known  perfectly  well!"  The  last  words 
issued  in  a  wail  from  the  depths  of  her  handkerchief. 

"You  mean,  I  suppose,"  I  exploded,  "that  what 
you  have  always  wanted  was  to  go  off  on  this  per- 
fectly crazy  chase  after  imaginary  treasure!" 
There,  now  I  had  gone  and  done  it.  Of  course  it 
was  my  red  hair. 

"Jane,"  uttered  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  in  deep 
and  awful  tones,  "do  you  or  do  you  not  realize  how 
strangely  prophetic  were  the  warnings  I  gave  you 
from  the  first — that  if  you  revealed  our  plans  malig- 
nant Influences  would  be  brought  to  bear?  Be 
strong,  Jane — cling  to  the  Dynamic  Thought !" 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  29 

"I'm  clinging!"  sniffed  Aunt  Jane,  dabbing  away 
her  tears.  I  never  saw  any  one  get  so  pink  about  the 
eyes  and  nose  at  the  smallest  sign  of  weeping,  and 
yet  she  is  always  doing  it.  "Really,  Virginia,"  she 
broke  out  in  a  whimper,  "it  is  not  kind  to  say,  I  sup- 
pose, but  I  would  just  as  soon  you  hadn't  come! 
Just  when  I  was  learning  to  expand  my  individual- 
ity— and  then  you  come  and  somehow  make  it  seem 
so  much  more  difficult !" 

I  rose.  "Very  well,  Aunt  Jane,"  I  said  coldly. 
"Expand  all  you  like.  When  you  get  to  the  burst- 
ing point  I'll  do  my  best  to  save  the  pieces.  For  the 
present  I  suppose  I  had  better  leave  you  to  company 
so  much  more  favorable  to  your  soul  development !" 
And  I  walked  away  with  my  head  in  the  air. 

It  was  so  much  in  the  air,  and  the  deck  of  the 
Rufus  Smith  was  so  unstable,  that  I  fell  over  a  coil 
of  rope  and  fetched  up  in  the  arms  of  the  Honor- 
able Cuthbert  Vane.  Fortunately  this  occurred 
around  the  corner  of  the  deck-house,  out  of  sight 
of  my  aunt  and  Miss  Browne,  so  the  latter  was  un- 
able to  shed  the  lurid  light  on  the  episode  which  she 
doubtless  would  if  she  had  seen  it.  Mr.  Vane  stood 
the  shock  well  and  promptly  set  me  on  my  feet. 

"I  say !"  he  exclaimed  sympathetically,  "not  hurt, 


30  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

are  you?  Beastly  nuisance,  you  know,  these  ropes 
lying  about — regular  man-traps,  I  call  'em." 

"Thanks,  I'm  quite  all  right,"  I  said,  and  as  I 
spoke  two  large  genuine  tears  welled  up  into  my 
eyes.  I  hadn't  realized  till  I  felt  them  smarting  on 
my  eyelids  how  deeply  hurt  I  was  at  the  unnatural 
behavior  of  Aunt  Jane. 

"Ah  —  I'm  afraid  you  are  really  not  quite  all 
right!"  returned  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  with  pro- 
found concern.  "Tell  me  what's  the  matter — please 
do!" 

I  shook  my  head.  "It's  nothing — you  couldn't 
help  me.  It's  just — Aunt  Jane." 

"Your  aunt?  Has  she  been  kicking  up  a  bit?  I 
thought  she  looked  rather  a  mild  sort." 

"Oh — mild!  That's  just  it — so  mild  that  she  has 
let  this  awful  Higglesby-Browne  person  get  posses- 
sion of  her  body  and  soul." 

"Oh,  I  say,  aren't  you  a  bit  rough  on  Miss 
Browne?  Thought  she  was  a  rather  remarkable  old 
party — goes  in  strong  for  intellect  and  all  that,  you 
know." 

"That's  just  what  fooled  Aunt  Jane  so — but  I 
thought  a  man  would  know  better."  My  feathers 
were  ruffled  again. 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  31 

"Well,  fact  is,  I'm  not  so  much  up  in  that  sort 
of  thing  myself,"  he  admitted  modestly.  "Rather 
took  her  word  for  it  and  all  that,  you  know.  There's 
Shaw,  though — cleverest  chap  going,  I  assure  you. 
I  rather  fancy  Miss  Browne  couldn't  pull  the  wool 
over  his  eyes  much." 

"She  evidently  did,  though,"  I  said  snappishly, 
"since  he's  let  her  rope  him  in  for  such  a  wild  goose 
chase  as  this!"  In  my  heart  I  felt  convinced  that 
the  clever  Mr.  Shaw  was  merely  Miss  Browne's 
partner  in  imposture. 

"Oh,  really,  now,  Miss  Harding,  you  don't  think 
it's  that  —  that  the  thing's  all  moonshine?"  He 
stared  at  me  in  grieved  surprise. 

"Why,  what  else  can  it  be  ?"  I  demanded,  driven 
by  my  wrongs  to  the  cruelty  of  shattering  his  illu- 
sions. "Who  ever  heard  of  a  pirate's  treasure  that 
wasn't  moonshine?  The  moment  I  had  read  Aunt 
Jane's  letter  telling  of  the  perfectly  absurd  business 
she  was  setting  out  on  I  rushed  down  by  the  first 
boat.  Of  course  I  meant  to  take  her  back  with  me, 
to  put  a  stop  to  all  this  madness ;  but  I  was  too  late 
— and  you're  glad  of  it,  I  dare  say!" 

"I  can't  help  being  glad,  you  know,"  he  replied, 
the  color  rising  to  his  ingenuous  cheeks.  "It's  so 


32  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

frightfully  jolly  having  you  along.  Only  I'm  sorry 
you  came  against  your  will.  Rather  fancy  you  had 
it  in  your  head  that  we  were  a  band  of  cutthroats, 
eh?  Well,  the  fact  is  I  don't  know  much  about  the 
two  chaps  Miss  Browne  picked  up,  though  I  suspect 
they  are  a  very  decent  sort.  That  odd  fish,  Captain 
Magnus,  now — he  was  quite  Miss  Browne's  own 
find,  I  assure  you.  And  as  to  old  H.  H. — Tubbs, 
you  know — Miss  Browne  met  up  with  him  on  the 
boat  coming  down.  The  rum  old  chap  got  on  her 
soft  side  somehow,  and  first  thing  she  had  ap- 
pointed him  secretary  and  treasurer — as  though  we 
were  a  meeting  of  something.  Shaw  was  quite  a  bit 
upset  about  it.  He  and  I  were  a  week  later  in  arriv- 
ing— came  straight  on  from  England  with  the  sup- 
plies, while  Miss  Browne  fixed  things  up  with  the 
little  black-and-tan  country  that  owns  the  island.  I 
say,  Miss  Harding,  you're  bound  to  like  Shaw  no 
end  when  you  know  him — he's  such  a  wonderfully 
clever  chap!" 

I  had  no  wish  to  blight  his  faith  in  the  superlative 
Mr.  Shaw,  and  said  nothing.  This  evidently  pained 
him,  and  as  we  stood  leaning  on  the  rail  in  the 
shadow  of  the  deck-house,  watching  the  blue  water 
slide  by,  he  continued  to  sound  the  praises  of  his 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  33 

idol.  It  seemed  that  as  soon  as  Miss  Browne  had 
beguiled  Aunt  Jane  into  financing  her  scheme — a 
feat  equivalent  to  robbing  an  infant-class  scholar  of 
his  Sunday-school  nickel — she  had  cast  about  for  a 
worthy  leader  for  the  forthcoming  Harding-Browne 
expedition.  All  the  winds  of  fame  were  bearing 
abroad  just  then  the  name  of  a  certain  young  ex- 
plorer who  had  lately  added  another  continent  or 
two  to  the  British  Empire.  Linked  with  his  were 
other  names,  those  of  his  fellow  adventurers,  which 
shone  only  less  brightly  than  that  of  their  chief. 
One  Dugald  Shaw  had  been  among  the  great  man's 
most  trusted  lieutenants,  but  now,  on  the  organiz- 
ing of  the  second  expedition,  he  was  left  behind  in 
London,  only  half  recovered  of  a  wound  received 
in  the  Antarctic.  The  hook  of  a  block  and  tackle 
had  caught  him,  ripped  his  forehead  open  from 
cheek  to  temple,  and  for  a  time  threatened  the  sight 
of  the  eye.  Slowly,  under  the  care  of  the  London 
surgeons,  he  had  recovered,  and  the  eye  was  saved. 
Meanwhile  his  old  companions  had  taken  again  the 
path  of  glory,  and  were  far  on  their  way  back  to 
the  ice-fields  of  the  South  Pole.  Only  Dugald  Shaw 
was  left  behind.  _- 

"And  so,"  the  even  voice  flowed  on,  "when  I  ran 


34  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

on  to  him  in  London  he  was  feeling  fearfully  low, 
I  do  assure  you.  A  chap  of  his  sort  naturally  hates 
to  think  he's  on  the  shelf.  I  had  known  him  since 
I  was  a  little  'un,  when  we  used  to  go  to  Scotland 
for  our  holidays,  and  he  would  be  home  from  sea 
and  staying  with  his  cousin  at  the  manse.  He'd 
make  us  boats  and  spin  all  sorts  of  yarns,  and  we 
thought  him  a  bigger  man  than  the  admiral  of  the 
fleet. 

"Well,  old  Shaw  was  fancying  there  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  go  back  to  his  place  with  the  P.  &  O., 
which  seemed  a  bit  flat  after  what  he'd  been  hav- 
ing, and  meant  he  would  never  get  beyond  being 
the  captain  of  a  liner,  and  not  that  for  a  good  many 
years  to  come,  when  a  cable  came  from  this  Miss 
Higglesby-Brown  offering  him  command  of  this  ex- 
pedition. As  neither  of  us  had  ever  heard  of  Miss 
Higglesby-Browne,  we  were  both  a  bit  floored  for 
a  time.  But  Shaw  smoked  a  pipe  on  it,  and  then  he 
said,  'Old  chap,  if  they'll  give  me  my  figure,  I'm 
their  man.'  And  I  said,  'Quite  so,  old  chap,  and  I'll 
go  along,  too.' 

"I  had  to  argue  quite  a  bit,  but  in  the  end  the 
dear  old  boy  let  me  come — after  wiring  the  pater 
and  what  not.  And  I  do  assure  you,  Miss  Harding, 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  35 

it  strikes  me  as  no  end  of  a  lark — besides  expecting 
it  to  put  old  Shaw  on  his  feet  and  give  us  hatfuls  of 
money  all  round." 

Well,  it  was  a  plausible  story,  and  I  had  no  doubt, 
so  far  as  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  was  concerned,  an 
absolutely  truthful  one.  The  beautiful  youth  was 
manifestly  as  guileless  as  a  small  boy  playing  pirate 
with  a  wooden  sword.  But  as  to  Mr.  Shaw,  who 
could  tell  that  it  hadn't  after  all  been  a  trumped-up 
affair  between  Miss  Browne  and  him — that  his  sur- 
prise at  the  message  was  not  assumed  to  throw  dust 
in  the  eyes  of  his  young  and  trusting  friend?  Are 
even  the  most  valiant  adventurers  invariably  hon- 
est? Left  behind  by  his  companions  because  of  his 
injury,  his  chance  of  an  enduring  fame  cut  off,  with 
no  prospects  but  those  of  an  officer  on  an  ocean 
liner,  might  he  not  lend  a  ready  ear  to  a  scheme 
for  plucking  a  fat  and  willing  pigeon?  So  great 
was  my  faith  in  Aunt  Jane's  gullibility,  so  dark  my 
distrust  of  Miss  Browne,  that  all  connected  with  the 
enterprise  lay  under  the  cloud  of  my  suspicion.  The 
Honorable  Mr.  Vane  I  had  already  so  far  excul- 
pated as  to  wonder  if  he  were  not  in  some  way  be- 
ing victimized  toe;  but  Mr.  Shaw,  after  even  a  cas- 
ual glimpse  of  him,  one  couldn't  picture  as  a  victim. 


36  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

I  felt  that  he  must  have  gone  into  the  enterprise 
with  his  eyes  open  to  its  absurdity,  and  fully  aware 
that  the  only  gold  to  be  won  by  anybody  must  come 
out  of  the  pocket  of  Aunt  Jane. 

As  these  reflections  passed  through  my  mind  I 
looked  up  and  saw  the  subject  of  them  approaching. 
He  lifted  his  helmet,  but  met  my  eyes  unsmilingly, 
with  a  sort  of  sober  scrutiny.  He  had  the  tanned 
skin  of  a  sailor,  and  brown  hair  cropped  close  and 
showing  a  trace  of  gray.  This  and  a  certain  dour 
grim  look  he  had  made  me  at  first  consider  him 
quite  middle-aged,  though  I  knew  later  that  he  was 
not  yet  thirty-five.  As  to  the  grimness,  perhaps,  I 
unwillingly  conceded,  part  of  it  was  due  to  the  scar 
which  seamed  the  right  temple  to  the  eyebrow,  in  a 
straight  livid  line.  But  it  was  a  grim  face  anyway, 
strong-jawed,  with  piercing  steel-blue  eyes. 

He  was  welcomed  by  Mr.  Vane  with  a  joyous 
thump  on  the  shoulder-blade.  "I  say,  old  man,  Miss 
Harding  has  turned  out  to  be  the  most  fearful 
doubting  Thomas — thinks  the  whole  scheme  quite 
mad  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  I'm  far  too  great  a 
duffer  to  convert  her,  but  perhaps  you  might,  don't 
you  know?" 

Mr.  Shaw  looked  at  me  steadily.    His  eyes  were 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  37 

the  kind  that  seem  to  see  all  and  reveal  nothing.  I 
felt  a  hot  spark  of  defiance  rising  in  my  own. 

"And  indeed  it  is  too  bad,"  he  said  coolly,  "that 
the  trip  should  not  be  more  to  Miss  Harding's  lik- 
ing." The  rough  edges  of  his  Scotch  burr  had  been 
smoothed  down  by  much  wandering,  but  you  knew 
at  once  on  which  side  of  the  Solway  he  had  seen 
the  light. 

"It  is  not  a  question  of  my  liking,"  I  retorted, 
trying  to  preserve  an  unmoved  and  lofty  demeanor, 
though  my  heart  was  beating  rather  quickly  at  find- 
ing myself  actually  crossing  swords  with  the  re- 
doubtable adventurer,  this  man  who  had  often  faced 
death,  I  could  not  refuse  to  believe,  as  steadily  as 
he  was  facing  me  now. 

"It  is  not  at  all  a  question  of  my  liking  or  not 
liking  the  trip,  but  of  the  trip  itself  being — quite  the 
wildest  thing  ever  heard  of  out  of  a  story-book." 
Harsher  terms  had  sprung  first  to  my  lips,  but  had 
somehow  failed  to  get  beyond  them. 

"Ah — yet  the  world  would  be  the  poorer  if  cer- 
tain wild  trips  had  not  been  taken.  I  seem  to  re- 
member one  Christopher  Columbus,  for  instance." 

By  a  vivid  lightning-flash  of  wrath  I  felt  that  this 
adventurer  was  laughing  at  me  a  little  under  his 


38  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

sober  exterior — even  stirring  me  up  as  one  does  an 
angry  kitten. 

"Yes,"  I  flared  out,  "but  Columbus  did  not  in- 
veigle a  confiding  old  lady  to  go  along  with  him!" 
Of  course  Aunt  Jane  is  not,  properly  speaking,  an 
old  lady,  but  it  was  much  more  effective  to  pose  her 
as  one  for  the  moment. 

It  was  certainly  effective,  to  judge  by  the  sudden 
firm  setting  of  his  mouth. 

"Lad,"  he  said  quietly,  "lend  a  hand  below,  will 
you?  They  are  overhauling  some  of  our  stuff  'tween 
decks." 

He  waited  until  the  Honorable  Cuthbert,  looking 
rather  dazed,  had  retired.  We  stood  facing  each 
other,  my  breath  coming  rather  hurriedly.  There 
was  a  kind  of  still  force  about  this  mastered  anger 
of  the  dour  Scot,  like  the  brooding  of  black  clouds 
that  at  any  moment  may  send  forth  their  devastat- 
ing fire.  Yet  I  myself  was  not  endowed  with  red 
hair  for  nothing. 

"Miss  Harding,"  he  said  slowly,  "that  was  a  bit- 
ter word  you  said." 

My  head  went  up. 

"Bitter,  perhaps,"  I  flung  back,  "but  is  it  not 
true?  It  is  for  you  to  answer." 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  39 

"No,  it  is  not  for  me  to  answer,  because  it  is  not 
for  you  to  ask.  But  since  you  talk  of  inveigling,  let 
me  give  the  history  of  my  connection  with  the  ex- 
pedition. You  will  understand  then  that  I  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  organizing  it,  but  was  merely  engaged 
to  do  my  best  to  carry  it  through  to  success." 

"I  have  already  heard  a  version  of  the  matter 
from  Mr.  Vane." 

"And  you  think  he  is  in  the  conspiracy  too?" 

"Certainly  not,"  I  replied  hastily.  "I  mean — of 
course,  I  know  he  told  me  exactly  what  he  believes 
himself." 

"Yes,  you  would  take  the  lad's  word,  of  course." 
This  with  a  slight  but  significant  emphasis  of  which 
he  was  perhaps  unconscious.  "Then  I  suppose  you 
consider  that  he  was  inveigled  too?" 

"I  am  not  required  to  consider  Mr.  Vane's  status 
at  all,"  I  replied  with  dignity.  "It  is  my  aunt  whom 
I  wish  to  protect."  And  suddenly  to  my  dismay  my 
voice  grew  husky.  I  had  to  turn  my  head  aside  and 
blink  hard  at  the  sea.  I  seemed  to  be  encountering 
fearful  and  unexpected  odds  in  my  endeavor  to 
rescue  Aunt  Jane. 

He  stood  looking  down  at  me — he  was  a  big  man, 
though  of  lesser  height  than  the  superb  Cuthbert — 


40  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

in  a  way  I  couldn't  quite  understand.  And  what  I 
don't  understand  always  makes  me  uncomfortable. 

"Very  well,"  he  said  after  a  pause.  "Maybe  your 
opportunity  will  come.  It  would  be  a  pity  indeed  if 
Miss  Harding  were  to  require  no  protecting  and  a 
young  lady  here  with  such  a  good  will  to  it.  But  if 
you  will  take  the  suggestion  of  a  man  of  rather 
broader  experience  than  your  own,  you  will  wait  un- 
til the  occasion  arises.  It  is  bad  generalship,  really, 
to  waste  your  ammunition  like  this." 

"I  dare  say  I  am  not  a  master  of  strategy,"  I  cried, 
furious  at  myself  for  my  moment  of  weakness  and 
at  him  for  the  softening  tone  which  had  crept  into 
his  voice.  "I  am  merely — honest.  And  when  I  see 
Aunt  Jane  hypnotized — by  this  Violet  person — " 

"And  indeed  I  have  seen  no  reason  to  think  that 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne  is  not  a  most  excellent 
lady,"  interrupted  Mr.  Shaw  stiffly.  "And  let  me 
say  this,  Miss  Harding:  here  we  are  all  together, 
whether  we  wish  to  be  or  no,  and  for  six  weeks  or 
more  on  the  island  we  shall  see  no  faces  but  our  own. 
Are  we  to  be  divided  from  the  beginning  by  quar- 
rels? Are  maybe  even  the  men  of  us  to  be  set  by 
the  ears  through  the  bickering  of  women?" 

Like  the  flick  of  a  whip  came  the  certainty  that  he 


I  ENGAGE  THE  ENEMY  41 

was  thinking  of  the  Honorable  Cuthbert,  and  that 
I  was  the  rock  on  which  their  David-and-Jonathan 
friendship  might  split.  Otherwise  I  suppose  Miss 
Higglesby-Browne  and  I  might  have  clawed  each 
other  forever  without  interference  from  him. 

"Really,"  I  said  with  —  I  hope  —  well-simulated 
scorn,  "since  I  am  quite  alone  against  half  a  dozen 
of  you,  I  should  think  you  could  count  on  putting 
down  any  rebellion  on  my  part  very  easily.  I  repeat, 
I  had  no  other  object  in  coming  along — though  I 
was  really  kidnaped  along — than  to  look  after  my 
aunt.  The  affairs  of  the  party  otherwise — or  its  per- 
sonnel— do  not  interest  me  at  all.  As  to  the  treasure, 
of  course  I  know  perfectly  well  that  there  isn't  any." 

And  I  turned  my  back  and  looked  steadily  out  to 
sea.  After  a  moment  or  two  I  heard  him  turn  on 
his  heel  and  go  away.  It  was  none  too  soon,  for  I 
had  already  begun  to  feel  unostentatiously  for  my 
handkerchief.  Any  way,  I  had  had  the  last  word — 

The  rest  of  my  day  was  lonely,  for  the  beautiful 
youth,  probably  by  malevolent  design,  was  kept  busy 
between  decks.  Mr.  Tubbs  danced  attendance  on 
Aunt  Jane  and  Miss  Browne,  so  assiduously  that  I 
already  began  to  see  some  of  my  worst  fears  real- 
ized. There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  retire 


42  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

to  my  berth  and  peruse  a  tattered  copy  of  Huckle- 
berry Finn  which  I  found  in  the  cabin. 

At  dinner,  having  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  at  my 
elbow,  it  was  easier  than  not  to  ignore  every  one 
else.  The  small  keen  eyes  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  under  his 
lofty  and  polished  dome  of  thought,  watched  us 
knowingly.  You  saw  that  he  was  getting  ready  to 
assume  a  bless-you-my-children  attitude  and  even  to 
take  credit  somehow  as  match-maker.  He  related 
anecdotes,  in  which,  as  an  emissary  of  Cupid,  he 
played  a  benevolent  and  leading  role.  One  detected, 
too,  a  grin,  ugly  and  unmirthful,  on  the  unprepos- 
sessing countenance  of  Captain  Magnus.  I  was  in- 
different. The  man  my  gaiety  was  intended  for  sat 
at  the  far  end  of  the  table.  I  had  to  wipe  out  the 
memory  of  my  wet  eyes  that  afternoon. 

Directly  dinner  was  at  an  end,  remorselessly  he 
led  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  away.  I  retired  to 
Huckleberry  Finn.  But  a  face  with  a  scar  running 
to  the  eyebrow  looked  up  at  me  from  the  pages, 
and  I  held  colloquies  with  it  in  which  I  said  all  the 
brilliant  and  cutting  things  which  had  occurred  to 
me  too  late. 

I  was  thus  engaged  when  a  cry  rang  through  the 
ship:  "Land  ho!" 


IV 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE 

I  DROPPED  my  book  and  ran  on  deck.  Every 
one  else  was  already  there.  I  joined  the  row 
at  the  rail,  indifferent,  for  the  moment,  to  the  fact 
that  to  display  so  much  interest  in  their  ridiculous 
island  involved  a  descent  from  my  pinnacle.  Indeed, 
the  chill  altitude  of  pinnacles  never  agrees  with  me 
for  long  at  a  time,  so  that  I  am  obliged  to  descend 
at  intervals  to  breathe  the  air  on  the  common  level. 

The  great  gleaming  orb  of  the  tropic  moon  was 
blinding  as  the  sun.  Away  to  the  faint  translucent 
line  of  the  horizon  rolled  an  infinity  of  shining  sea. 
Straight  ahead  rose  a  dark  conical  mass.  It  was  the 
mountainous  shape  of  Leeward  Island. 

Everybody  was  craning  to  get  a  clearer  view. 
"Hail,  isle  of  Fortune!"  exclaimed  Miss  Browne. 
I  think  my  aunt  would  not  have  been  surprised  if  it 
had  begun  to  rain  doubloons  upon  the  deck. 

"I  bet  we  don't jmt  it  over  some  on  them  original 
Argonaut  fellers,  hey?"  cried  Mr.  Tubbs. 
43 


44  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Higher  and  higher  across  the  sky-line  cut  the  dark 
crest  of  the  island  as  the  freighter  steamed  valiantly 
ahead.  She  had  a  manner  all  her  own  of  progress- 
ing by  a  series  of  headlong  lunges,  followed  by  a 
nerve-racking  pause  before  she  found  her  equilib- 
rium again.  But  she  managed  to  wallow  forward 
at  a  good  gait,  and  the  island  grew  clearer  momently. 
Sheer  and  formidable  from  the  sea  rose  a  line  of 
black  cliffs,  and  above  them  a  single  peak  threw  its 
shadow  far  across  the  water.  Faintly  we  made  out 
the  white  line  of  the  breakers  foaming  at  the  foot 
of  the  cliffs. 

We  coasted  slowly  along,  looking  for  the  mouth 
of  the  little  bay.  Meanwhile  we  had  collected  our 
belongings,  and  stood  grouped  about  the  deck,  ready 
for  the  first  thrilling  plunge  into  adventure.  My 
aunt  and  Miss  Browne  had  tied  huge  green  veils 
over  their  cork  helmets,  and  were  clumping  about  in 
tremendous  hobnailed  boots.  I  could  not  hope  to 
rival  this  severely  military  get-up,  but  I  had  a  blue 
linen  skirt  and  a  white  middy,  and  trusted  that  my 
small  stock  of  similar  garments  would  last  out  our 
time  on  the  island.  All  the  luggage  I  was  allowed 
to  take  was  in  a  traveling  bag  and  a  gunny-sack, 
obligingly  donated  by  the  cook.  Speaking  of  cooks, 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE  45 

I  found  we  had  one  of  our  own  along,  a  coal-black 
negro  with  grizzled  wool,  an  unctuous  voice,  and  the 
manners  of  an  old-school  family  retainer.  So  far 
as  I  know,  his  name  was  Cookie.  I  suppose  he  had 
received  another  once  from  his  sponsors  in  baptism, 
but  if  so,  it  was  buried  in  oblivion. 

Now  a  narrow  gleaming  gap  appeared  in  the  wall 
of  cliffs,  and  the  freighter  whistled  and  lay  to. 
There  began  a  bustle  at  the  davits,  and  shouts  of 
"Lower  away !"  and  for  the  first  time  it  swept  over 
me  that  we  were  to  be  put  ashore  in  boats.  Simul- 
taneously this  fact  swept  over  Aunt  Jane,  and  I  think 
also  over  Miss  Browne,  for  I  saw  her  fling  one  wild 
glance  around,  as  though  in  search  of  some  impos- 
sible means  of  retreat.  But  she  took  the  blow  in  a 
grim  silence,  while  Aunt  Jane  burst  out  in  lamenta- 
tion. She  would  not,  could  not  go  in  a  boat.  She 
had  heard  all  her  life  that  small  boats  were  most  un- 
safe. A  little  girl  had  been  drowned  in  a  lake  near 
where  she  was  visiting  once  through  going  in  a  boat. 
Why  didn't  the  captain  sail  right  up  to  the  island  as 
she  had  expected  and  put  us  ashore  ?  Even  at  Pan- 
ama with  only  a  little  way  to  go  she  had  felt  it  sui- 
cidal— here  it  was  not  to  be  thought  of. 

But  the  preparations  for  this  desperate  step  went 


46  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

on  apace,  and  no  one  heeded  Aunt  Jane  but  Mr. 
Tubbs,  who  had  hastened  to  succor  beauty  in  dis- 
tress, and  mingled  broken  exhortations  to  courage 
with  hints  that  if  his  opinion  had  been  attended  to 
all  would  be  well. 

Then  Aunt  Jane  clutched  at  Mr.  Shaw's  coat  lapel 
as  he  went  by,  and  he  stopped  long  enough  to  explain 
patiently  that  vessels  of  the  freighter's  size  could  not 
enter  the  bay,  and  that  there  really  was  no  danger, 
and  that  Aunt  Jane  might  wait  if  she  liked  till  the 
last  boat,  as  it  would  take  several  trips  to  transfer 
us  and  our  baggage.  I  supposed  of  course  that  this 
would  include  me,  and  stood  leaning  on  the  rail, 
watching  the  first  boat,  with  Mr.  Shaw,  Captain 
Magnus  and  the  cook,  fade  to  a  dark  speck  on  the 
water,  when  Mr.  Vane  appeared  at  my  elbow. 

"Ready,  Miss  Harding?  You  are  to  go  in  the  next 
boat,  with  me.  I  asked  especially." 

"Oh,  thanks!"  I  cried  fervently.  He  would  be 
much  nicer  than  Mr.  Tubbs  to  cling  to  as  I  went 
down — indeed,  he  was  so  tall  that  if  it  were  at  all  a 
shallow  place  I  might  use  him  as  a  stepping-stone 
«md  survive.  I  hoped  drowning  men  didn't  gurgle 
very  much — meanwhile  Mr.  Vane  had  disappeared 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE  47 

over  the  side,  and  a  sailor  was  lifting  me  and  setting 
my  reluctant  feet  on  the  strands  of  the  ladder. 

"Good-by,  auntie !"  I  cried,  as  I  began  the  descent. 
"Don't  blame  yourself  too  much.  Everybody  has 
to  go  some  time,  you  know,  and  they  say  drowning's 
easy." 

With  a  stifled  cry  Aunt  Jane  forsook  Mr.  Tubbs 
and  flew  to  the  rail.  I  was  already  out  of  reach. 

"Oh,  Virginia !"  she  wailed.  "Oh,  my  dear  child ! 
If  it  should  be  the  last  parting!" 

"Give  my  jewelry  and  things  to  Bess's  baby!"  I 
found  strength  to  call  back.  What  with  the  wallow- 
ing of  the  steamer  and  the  natural  instability  of  rope- 
ladders  I  seemed  a  mere  atom  tossed  about  in  a 
swaying,  reeling  universe.  What  will  Aunt  Jane 
do?  flashed  through  my  mind,  and  I  wished  I  had 
waited  to  see.  Then  the  arms  of  the  Honorable  Mr. 
Vane  received  me.  The  strong  rowers  bent  their 
backs,  and  the  boat  shot  out  over  the  mile  or  two  of 
bright  water  between  us  and  the  island.  Great  slow 
swells  lifted  us.  We  dipped  with  a  soothing,  cradle- 
like  motion.  I  forgot  to  be  afraid,  in  the  delight  of 
the  warm  wind  that  fanned  our  cheeks,  of  the  moon- 
beams that  on  the  crest  of  every  ripple  were  splin- 


48  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

tered  to  a  thousand  dancing  lights.  I  forgot  fear, 
forgot  Miss  Higglesby-Browne,  forgot  the  harsh- 
ness of  the  Scotch  character. 

"Oh,  glorious,  glorious!"  I  cried  to  Cuthbert 
Vane. 

"Not  so  dusty,  eh?"  he  came  back  in  their  ridic- 
ulous English  slang.  Now  an  American  would  have 
said  some  little  old  moon  that!  We  certainly  have 
our  points  of  superiority. 

All  around  the  island  white  charging  lines  of 
breakers  foamed  on  ragged  half-seen  reefs.  You 
saw  the  flash  of  foam  leaping  half  the  height  of  the 
black  cliffs.  The  thunder  of  the  surf  was  in  our 
ears,  now  rising  to  wild  clamor,  fierce,  hungry,  men- 
acing, now  dying  to  a  vast  broken  mutter.  Now  our 
boat  felt  the  lift  of  the  great  shoreward  rollers,  and 
sprang  forward  like  a  living  thing.  The  other  boat, 
empty  of  all  but  the  rowers  and  returning  from  the 
island  to  the  ship,  passed  us  with  a  hail.  We  steered 
warily  away  from  a  wild  welter  of  foam  at  the  end 
of  a  long  point,  and  shot  beyond  it  on  the  heave  of 
a  great  swell  into  quiet  water.  We  were  in  the  lit- 
tle bay  under  the  shadow  of  the  frowning  cliffs. 

At  the  head  of  the  bay,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
lay  a  broad  white  beach  shining  under  the  moon.  At 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE  49 

the  edge  of  dark  woods  beyond  a  fire  burned  redly. 
It  threw  into  relief  the  black  moving  shapes  of  men 
upon  the  sand.  The  waters  of  the  cove  broke  upon 
the  beach  in  a  white  lacework  of  foam. 

Straight  for  the  sand  the  sailors  drove  the  boat. 
She  struck  it  with  a  jar,  grinding  forward  heavily. 
The  men  sprang  overboard,  wading  half-way  to  the 
waist.  And  the  arms  of  the  Honorable  Cuthbert 
Vane  had  snatched  me  up  and  were  bearing  me  safe 
and  dry  to  shore. 

The  sailors  hauled  on  the  boat,  dragging  it  up  the 
beach,  and  I  saw  the  Scotchman  lending  them  a 
hand.  The  hard  dry  sand  was  crunching  under  the 
heels  of  Mr.  Vane.  I  wriggled  a  little  and  Apollo, 
who  had  grown  absent-minded  apparently,  set  me 
down. 

Mr.  Shaw  approached  and  the  two  men  greeted 
each  other  in  their  offhand  British  way.  As  we 
couldn't  well,  under  the  circumstances,  maintain  a 
fiction  of  mutual  invisibility,  Mr.  Shaw,  with  a  cer- 
tain obvious  hesitation,  turned  to  me. 

"Only  lady  passenger,  eh  ?  Hope  you're  not  wet 
through.  Cookie's  making  coffee  over  yonder." 

"I  say,  Shaw-,"  cried  the  beautiful  youth  enthusi- 
astically, "Miss  Harding's  the  most  ripping  sport, 


50  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

you  know !  Not  the  least  nervous  about  the  trip,  I 
assure  you." 

"I  was,"  I  announced,  moved  to  defiance  by  the 
neighborhood  of  Mr.  Shaw.  "Before  we  started  I 
was  so  afraid  that  if  you  had  listened  you  might  have 
heard  my  teeth  chattering.  But  I  had  at  least  the 
comforting  thought  that  if  I  did  go  to  my  end  it 
would  not  be  simply  in  pursuit  of  sordid  gain !" 

"And  indeed  that  was  almost  a  waste  of  noble  sen- 
timent under  the  circumstances,"  answered  the  dour 
Scot,,  with  the  fleeting  shadow  of  an  enraging  smile. 
"Such  disappointingly  calm  weather  as  it  is!  See 
that  Miss  Harding  has  some  coffee,  Bert." 

I  promised  myself,  as  I  went  with  Mr.  Vane  to- 
ward the  fire,  that  some  day  I  would  find  the  weapon 
that  would  penetrate  the  Scotchman's  armor — and 
would  use  it  mercilessly. 

Cookie,  in  his  white  attire,  and  with  his  black 
shining  face  and  ivory  teeth  gleaming  in  the  ruddy 
firelight,  looked  like  a  converted  cannibal — perhaps 
won  from  his  errors  by  one  of  Mr.  Vane's  mission- 
ary Johnnies.  He  received  us  with  unctuous  warmth. 

"Well,  now,  'clar  to  goodness  if  it  ain't  the  li'le 
lady !  How  come  you  git  ashore  all  dry  lak  you  is? 
Yes,  sah,  Cookie'll  git  you-all  some'n  hot  im- 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE  51 

mejusly."  He  wafted  me  with  stately  gestures  to  a 
seat  on  an  overturned  iron  kettle,  and  served  my 
coffee  with  an  air  appropriate  to  mahogany  and 
plate.  It  was  something  to  see  him  wait  on  Cuth- 
bert  Vane.  As  Cookie  told  me  later,  in  the  course 
of  our  rapidly  developing  friendship,  "dat  young 
gemmun  am  sure  one  ob  de  quality."  To  indicate  the 
certainty  of  Cookie's  instinct,  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne  was  never  more  to  him  than  "dat  pusson," 
and  the  cold  aloofness  of  his  manner  toward  her, 
which  yet  never  sank  to  impertinence,  would  have 
done  credit  to  a  duke. 

On  the  beach  Mr.  Shaw,  Captain  Magnus  and  the 
sailors  were  toiling,  unloading  and  piling  up  stores. 
Rather  laggingly,  Apollo  joined  them.  I  was  glad, 
for  a  heavy  fatigue  was  stealing  over  me.  Cookie, 
taking  note  of  my  sagging  head,  brought  me  some- 
body's dunnage  bag  for  a  pillow.  I  felt  him  draw- 
ing a  tarpaulin  over  me  as  I  sank  into  bottomless 
depths  of  sleep. 

I  opened  my  eyes  to  the  dying  stars.  The  moon 
had  set.  Black  shapes  of  tree  and  boulder  loomed 
portentous  through  the  ashen  dimness  that  precedes 
the  dawn.  I  heard  men  shouting,  "Here  she  comes !" 
"Stand  by  to  lend  a  hand !"  In  haste  I  scrambled  up 


52  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

and  tore  for  the  beach.  I  must  witness  the  landing 
of  Aunt  Jane. 

"Where  are  they,  where  are  they?"  I  demanded, 
rubbing  my  sleepy  eyes. 

"Why  didn't  you  stay  by  the  fire  and  have  your 
nap  out?"  asked  Mr.  Shaw,  in  a  tone  which  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  for  the  moment  to  be  frigid — per- 
haps because  I  hadn't  yet  waked  up  enough  to  have 
my  quills  in  good  pricking  order. 

"Nap?  Do  you  think  that  for  all  the  treasure  ever 
buried  by  a  pirate  I  would  miss  the  spectacle  of  Aunt 
Jane  and  Miss  Browne  arriving  ?  I  expect  it  to  com- 
pensate me  for  all  I  have  suffered  on  this  trip  so 
far." 

"See  what  it  is,  Bert,"  exclaimed  the  Scotchman, 
"to  have  a  truly  gentle  and  forgiving  nature — how  it 
brings  its  own  reward.  I'm  afraid  you  and  I  miss 
a  great  deal  in  life,  lad." 

The  beautiful  youth  pondered  this. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  replied,  "what  you  say  sounds 
quite  fit  and  proper  for  the  parson,  and  all  that,  of 
course,  but  I  fancy  you  are  a  bit  out  in  supposing 
that  Miss  Harding  is  so  forgiving,  old  man." 

"I  didn't  know  that  you  thought  so  badly  of  me, 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE  53 

too !"  I  said  timidly.  I  couldn't  help  it — the  temp- 
tation was  too  great. 

"I?  Oh,  really,  now,  you  can't  think  that!" 
Through  the  dusk  I  saw  that  he  was  flushing  hotly. 

"Lad,"  said  the  Scotchman  in  a  suddenly  harsh 
voice,  "lend  a  hand  with  this  rope,  will  you?"  And 
in  the  dusk  I  turned  away  to  hide  my  triumphant 
smiles.  I  had  found  the  weak  spot  of  my  foe — as 
Mr.  Tubbs  might  have  said,  I  was  wise  to  Achilles's 
heel. 

And  now  through  the  dawn-twilight  that  lay  upon 
the  cove  the  boat  drew  near  that  bore  Mr.  Tubbs  and 
his  fair  charges.  I  saw  the  three  cork  helmets 
grouped  together  in  the  stern.  Then  the  foaming 
fringe  of  wavelets  caught  the  boat,  hurled  it  for- 
ward, seemed  all  but  to  engulf  it.  Out  leaped  the 
sailors.  Out  leaped  Mr.  Tubbs,  and  disappeared  at 
once  beneath  the  waves.  Shrill  and  prolonged  rose 
the  shrieks  of  my  aunt  and  Miss  Higglesby-Browne. 
Valiantly  Mr.  Shaw  and  Cuthbert  Vane  had  rushed 
into  the  deep.  Each  now  appeared  staggering  up  the 
steep,  foam-swept  strand  under  a  struggling  burden. 
Even  after  they  were  safely  deposited  on  the  sand, 
Miss  Browne  and  my  aunt  continued  to  shriek. 


54  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"Save,  save  Mr.  Tubbs !"  implored  Aunt  Jane. 

But  Mr.  Tubbs,  overlooked  by  all  but  this  thought- 
ful friend,  had  cannily  saved  himself.  He  advanced 
upon  us  dripping. 

"A  close  call !"  he  sang  out  cheerfully.  "Thought 
one  time  old  Nep  had  got  a  strangle-hold  all  right. 
Thinks  I,  I  guess  there'll  be  something  doing  when 
Wall  Street  gets  this  news — that  old  H.  H.  is  food 
for  the  finny  denizens  of  the  deep !" 

"Such  an  event,  Mr.  Tubbs,"  pronounced  Violet, 
who  had  recovered  her  form  with  surprising  swift- 
ness, "might  well  have  sent  its  vibrations  through 
the  financial  arteries  of  the  world !" 

"It  would  have  been  most— most  shocking!" 
quavered  poor  Aunt  Jane  with  feeling.  She  was 
piteously  striving  to  extricate  herself  from  the  folds 
of  the  green  veil. 

I  came  to  her  assistance.  The  poor  plump  little 
woman  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

"It  was  a  most — unusual  experience,"  she  told 
me  as  I  unwound  her.  "Probably  extremely — uni- 
fying to  the  soul-forces  and  all  that,  as  Miss  Browne 
says,  but  for  the  moment — unsettling.  Is  my  helmet 
on  straight,  dear?  I  think  it  is  a  little  severe  for  my 
type  of  face,  don't  you?  There  was  a  sweet  little 


THE  ISLE  OF  FORTUNE  55 

hat  in  a  Fifth  Avenue  shop — simple  and  yet  so  chic. 
I  thought  it  just  the  thing,  but  Miss  Browne  said  no, 
helmets  were  always  worn — Coffee?  Oh,  my  dear 
child,  how  thankful  I  shall  be!" 

And  Aunt  Jane  clung  to  me  as  of  yore  as  I  led 
her  up  the  beach. 


THE  CAPTAIN  S  LEGACY 

WHEN  in  my  tender  years  I  was  taken  to  the 
matinee,  usually  the  most  thrilling  feature 
of  the  spectacle  to  me  was  the  scene  depicted  on  the 
drop-curtain.  I  know  not  why  only  the  decorators 
of  drop-curtains  are  inspired  to  create  landscapes  of 
such  strange  enchantment,  of  a  beauty  which  not 
alone  beguiles  the  senses — I  speak  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  ten-year-old — but  throws  wide  to  fancy 
the  gate  of  dreams.  Directly  I  was  seated — in  the 
body — and  had  had  my  hat  taken  off  and  been  told 
not  to  wriggle,  I  vaulted  airily  over  the  unconscious 
audience,  over  an  orchestra  engaged  in  tuning  up, 
and  was  lost  in  the  marvelous  landscape  of  the  drop- 
curtain.  The  adventures  which  I  had  there  put  to 
shame  any  which  the  raising  of  the  curtain  per- 
mitted to  be  seen  upon  the  stage. 

I  had  never  hoped  to  recover  in  this  prosaic  world 
my  long-lost  paradise  of  the  drop-curtain,  but  morn- 
ing revealed  it  to  me  here  on  Leeward  Island.  Here 
56 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  57 

was  the  feathery  foliage,  the  gushing  springs,  the 
gorgeous  flowers  of  that  enchanted  land.  And  here 
were  the  soft  and  intoxicating  perfumes  that  I  had 
imagined  in  my  curtain  landscape. 

Leeward  Island  measures  roughly  four  miles 
across  from  east  to  west  by  three  from  north  to 
south.  The  core  of  the  island  is  the  peak,  rising  to 
a  height  of  nearly  three  thousand  feet.  At  its  base 
on  three  sides  lies  a  plateau,  its  edges  gnawed  away 
by  the  sea  to  the  underlying  rocky  skeleton.  On  the 
southeastern  quarter  the  peak  drops  by  a  series  of 
great  precipices  straight  into  the  sea. 

Back  from  the  cove  stretches  a  little  hollow,  its 
floor  rising  gently  to  the  level  of  the  plateau.  In- 
numerable clear  springs  which  burst  from  the  moun- 
tain converge  to  a  limpid  stream,  which  winds 
through  the  hollow  to  fall  into  the  little  bay.  All 
the  plateau  and  much  of  the  peak  are  clothed  with 
woods,  a  beautiful  bright  green  against  the  sapphire 
of  sea  and  sky.  High  above  all  other  growth  wave 
the  feathery  tops  of  the  cocoa-palms,  which  flourish 
here  luxuriantly.  You  saw  them  in  their  thousands, 
slender  and  swaying,  tossing  all  together  in  the  light 
sea-wind  their  crowns  of  nodding  plumes. 

The  palms  were  nowhere  more  abundant  than  in 


58  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  hollow  by  the  cove  where  our  camp  was  made, 
and  their  size  and  the  regularity  of  their  order  spoke 
of  cultivation.  Guavas,  oranges  and  lemons  grew 
here,  too,  and  many  beautiful  banana-palms.  The 
rank  forest  growth  had  been  so  thoroughly  cleared 
out  that  it  had  not  yet  returned,  except  stealthily  in 
the  shape  of  brilliant-flowered  creepers  which  wound 
their  sinuous  way  from  tree  to  tree,  like  fair  Delilahs 
striving  to  overcome  arboreal  Samsons  by  their 
wiles.  They  were  rankest  beside  the  stream,  which 
ran  at  one  edge  of  the  hollow  under  the  rise  of  the 
plateau. 

At  the  side  of  the  clearing  toward  the  stream 
stood  a  hut,  built  of  cocoa-palm  logs.  Its  roof  of 
palm-thatch  had  been  scattered  by  storms.  Nearer 
the  stream  on  a  bench  were  an  old  decaying  wash- 
tub  and  a  board.  A  broken  frying-pan  and  a  rusty 
axe-head  lay  in  the  grass. 

In  the  hut  itself  were  a  rude  bedstead,  a  small  ta- 
ble, and  a  cupboard  made  of  boxes.  I  was  excited 
at  first,  and  fancied  we  had  come  upon  the  dwelling 
of  a  marooned  pirate.  Without  taking  the  trouble 
to  combat  this  opinion,  Mr.  Shaw  explained  to  Cuth- 
bert  Vane  that  a  copra  gatherer  had  once  lived  here, 
and  that  the  place  must  have  yielded  such  a  profit 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  59 

that  he  was  only  surprised  to  find  it  deserted  now. 
Behind  this  cool,  unemphatic  speech  I  sensed  an 
ironic  zest  in  the  destruction  of  my  pirate. 

After  their  thrilling  experience  of  being  ferried 
from  the  Rufus  Smith  to  the  island,  my  aunt  and 
Miss  Browne  had  been  easily  persuaded  to  dispose 
themselves  for  naps.  Aunt  Jane,  however,  could  not 
be  at  rest  until  Mr.  Tubbs  had  been  restored  by  a 
cordial  which  she  extracted  with  much  effort  from 
the  depths  of  her  hand-bag.  He  partook  with  grav- 
ity and  the  rolled  up  eyes  of  gratitude,  and  retired 
grimacing  to  comfort  himself  from  a  private  bottle 
of  his  own. 

The  boats  of  the  Rufus  Smith  had  departed  from 
the  island,  and  our  relations  with  humanity  were 
severed.  The  thought  of  our  isolation  awed  and 
fascinated  me  as  I  sat  meditatively  upon  a  keg  of 
nails  watching  the  miracle  of  the  tropic  dawn.  The 
men  were  hard  at  work  with  bales  and  boxes,  except 
Mr.  Tubbs,  who  gave  advice.  It  must  have  been 
valuable  advice,  for  he  assured  everybody  that  a 
word  from  his  lips  had  invariably  been  enough  to 
make  Wall  Street  sit  up  and  take  notice.  But  it  is 
a  far  cry  from  Wall  Street  to  Leeward  Island.  Mr. 
Tubbs,  ignored,  sought  refuge  with  me  at  last,  and 


60  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

pointed  out  the  beauties  of  Aroarer  as  she  rose  from 
the  embrace  of  Neptune. 

"Aroarer  Borealis,  to  be  accurate,"  he  explained, 
"but  they  didn't  use  parties'  surnames  much  in  classic 
times." 

The  glad  cry  of  breakfast  put  an  end  to  Mr. 
Tubbs's  exposition  of  mythology. 

So  does  dull  reality  clog  the  feet  of  dreams  that 
it  proved  impossible  to  begin  the  day  by  digging  up 
the  treasure.  Camp  had  to  be  arranged,  for  folk 
must  eat  and  sleep  even  with  the  wealth  of  the  Indies 
to  be  had  for  the  turning  of  a  sod.  The  cabin  was 
reroofed  and  set  apart  as  the  bower  of  Aunt  Jane 
and  Miss  Browne.  I  declined  to  make  a  third  in 
this  sanctuary.  You  could  tell  by  looking  at  her  that 
Violet  was  the  sort  of  person  who  would  inevitably 
sleep  out  loud. 

"Hang  me  up  in  a  tree  or  anywhere,"  I  insisted, 
and  it  ended  by  my  having  a  tarpaulin  shelter  rigged 
up  in  a  group  of  cocoa-palms. 

Among  our  earliest  discoveries  on  the  island  was 
one  regrettable  from  the  point  of  view  of  romance, 
though  rich  in  practical  advantages ;  the  woods  were 
the  abode  of  numerous  wild  pigs.  This  is  not  to 
write  a  new  chapter  on  the  geographical  distribution 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  61 

of  the  pig,  for  they  were  of  the  humdrum  domestic 
variety,  and  had  doubtless  appertained  to  the  copra 
gatherer's  establishment  But  you  should  have  seen 
how  clean,  how  seemly,  how  self-respecting  were  our 
Leeward  Island  pigs  to  realize  how  profoundly  the 
pig  of  Christian  lands  is  a  debased  and  slandered 
animal.  These  quadrupeds  would  have  strengthened 
Jean  Jacques's  belief  in  the  primitive  virtue  of  man 
before  civilization  debauched  him.  And  I  shall  al- 
ways paraphrase  the  familiar  line  to  read :  "When 
wild  in  woods  the  noble  porker  ran." 

Aunt  Jane  had  been  dreadfully  alarmed  by  the 
pigs,  and  wanted  to  keep  me  immured  in  the  cabin 
o'  nights  so  that  I  should  not  be  eaten.  But  nothing 
less  than  a  Bengal  tiger  would  have  driven  me  to 
such  extremity. 

"Though  if  a  pig  should  eat  me,"  I  suggested, 
"you  might  mark  him  to  avoid  becoming  a  cannibal 
at  second  hand.  I  should  hate  to  think  of  you,  Aunt 
Jane,  as  the  family  tomb !" 

"Virginia,  you  are  most  unfeeling,"  said  Aunt 
Jane,  getting  pink  about  the  eyelids. 

"Ah,  I  didn't  know  you  Americans  went  in  much 
for  family  tombs  ?"  remarked  the  beautiful  youth  in- 
terestedly. 


62  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"No,  we  do  our  best  to  keep  out  of  them,"  I  as- 
sured him,  and  he  walked  off  meditatively  revolving 
this. 

If  the  beautiful  youth  had  been  beautiful  on  ship- 
board, in  the  informal  costume  he  affected  on  the 
island  he  was  more  splendid  still.  His  white  cotton 
shirt  and  trousers  showed  him  lithe  and  lean  and 
muscular.  His  bared  arms  and  chest  were  like  cream 
solidified  to  flesh.  Instead  of  his  nose  peeling  like 
common  noses  in  the  hot  salt  air,  every  kiss  of  the 
sun  only  gave  his  skin  a  warmer,  richer  glow.  With 
his  striped  silk  sash  of  red  and  blue  about  his  waist, 
and  his  crown  of  ambrosial  chestnut  curls — a  devel- 
opment due  to  the  absence  of  a  barber — the  Honor- 
able Cuthbert  would  certainly  have  been  hailed  by 
the  natives,  if  there  had  been  any,  as  the  island's 
god. 

Camp  was  made  in  the  early  hours  of  the  day. 
Then  came  luncheon,  prepared  with  skill  by  Cookie, 
and  eaten  from  a  table  of  packing-cases  laid  in  the 
shade.  Afterward  every  one,  hot  and  weary,  re- 
tired for  a  siesta.  It  was  now  the  cool  as  well  as 
the  dry  season  on  the  island,  yet  the  heat  of  the  sun 
at  midday  was  terrific.  But  the  temperature  brought 
us  neither  illness  nor  even  any  great  degree  of  lassi- 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  63 

tude.  Always  around  the  island  blew  the  faint  cool- 
ing breath  of  the  sea.  No  marsh  or  stagnant  water 
bred  insect  pests  or  fever.  Every  day  while  we  were 
there  the  men  worked  hard,  and  grew  lean  and  sun- 
browned,  and  thrived  on  it.  Every  afternoon  with 
unfailing  regularity  a  light  shower  fell,  but  in  twenty 
minutes  it  was  over  and  the  sun  shone  again,  greed- 
ily lapping  up  the  moisture  that  glittered  on  the 
leaves.  And  forever  the  sea  sang  a  low  muttering 
bass  to  the  faint  threnody  of  the  wind  in  the  palms. 
On  this  first  day  we  gathered  in  the  cool  of  the 
afternoon  about  our  table  of  packing-boxes  for  an 
event  which  even  I,  whose  role  was  that  of  skeptic, 
found  exciting.  Miss  Browne  was  at  last  to  produce 
her  map  and  reveal  the  secret  of  the  island.  So  far, 
except  in  general  terms,  she  had  imparted  it  to  no 
one.  Everybody,  in  coming  along,  had  been  buying 
a  pig  in  a  poke — though  to  be  sure  Aunt  Jane  had 
paid  for  it.  The  Scotchman,  Cuthbert  Vane  had  told 
me  incidentally,  had  insured  himself  against  loss  by 
demanding  a  retaining  fee  beforehand.  Somehow 
my  opinion,  both  of  his  honesty  and  of  his  intelli- 
gence, had  risen  since  I  knew  this.  As  to  Cuthbert 
Vane,  he  had  come  purely  in  a  spirit  of  adventure, 
and  had  paid  his  own  expenses  from  the  start. 


64  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

However,  now  the  great  moment  was  at  hand. 
But  before  it  comes,  I  will  here  set  down  the  treas- 
ure-story of  Leeward  Island,  as  I  gathered  it  later, 
a  little  here  and  there,  and  pieced  it  together  into  a 
coherent  whole  through  many  dreaming  hours. 

In  1820,  the  city  of  Lima,  in  Peru,  being  threat- 
ened by  the  revolutionaries  under  Bolivar  and  San 
Martin,  cautious  folk  began  to  take  thought  for  their 
possessions.  To  send  them  out  upon  the  high  seas 
under  a  foreign  flag  seemed  to  offer  the  best  hope  of 
safety,  and  soon  there  was  more  gold  afloat  on  the 
Pacific  than  at  any  time  since  the  sailing  of  the  great 
plate-galleons  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Captain 
Sampson,  of  the  brig  Bonny  Lass,  found  himself 
with  a  passenger  for  nowhere  in  particular  in  the 
shape  of  a  certain  Spanish  merchant  of  great  wealth, 
reputed  custodian  of  the  p'rivate  funds  of  the  bishop 
of  Lima.  This  gentleman  brought  with  him,  besides 
some  scanty  personal  baggage — for  he  took  ship  in 
haste — a  great  iron-bound  chest.  Four  stout  sailors 
of  the  Bonny  Lass  staggered  under  the  weight  of  it. 

The  Bonny  Lass  cruised  north  along  the  coast, 
the  passenger  desiring  to  put  in  at  Panama  in  the 
hope  that  word  might  reach  him  there  of  quieter 
times  at  home.  But  somewhere  off  Ecuador  on  a 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  65 

dark  and  starless  night  the  merchant  of  Lima  van- 
ished overboard  —  "and  what  could  you  expect," 
asked  Captain  Sampson  in  effect,  "when  a  lubber 
like  him  would  stay  on  deck  in  a  gale?"  Strange  to 
say,  the  merchant's  body-servant  met  the  fate  of  the 
heedless  also. 

Shrugging  his  shoulders  at  the  carelessness  of  pas- 
sengers, Captain  Sampson  bore  away  to  Leeward 
Island,  perhaps  from  curiosity  to  see  this  old  refuge 
of  the  buccaneers,  where  the  spoils  of  the  sack  of 
Guayaquil  were  said  to  have  been  buried.  Who 
knows  but  that  he,  too,  was  bent  on  treasure-seek- 
ing? Be  that  as  it  may,  the  little  brig  found  her 
way  into  the  bay  on  the  northeast  side  of  the  island, 
where  she  anchored.  Water  was  needed,  and  there 
is  refreshment  in  tropic  fruits  after  a  diet  of  salt 
horse  and  hardtack.  So  all  hands  had  a  holiday 
ashore,  where  the  captain  did  not  disdain  to  join 
them.  Only  he  went  apart,  and  had  other  occupa- 
tion than  swarming  up  the  palms  for  cocoanuts. 

One  fancies,  then,  a  moonless  night,  a  crew  sleep- 
ing off  double  grog,  generously  allowed  them  by  the 
captain ;  a  boat  putting  off  from  the  Bonny  Lass,  in 
which  were  captain,  mate,  and  one  Bill  Halliwell, 
able  seaman,  a  man  of  mighty  muscle;  and  as  freight 


66  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

an  object  large,  angular  and  ponderous,  so  that  the 
boat  lagged  heavily  beneath  the  rowers'  strokes. 

Later,  Bill,  the  simple  seaman,  grows  presump- 
tuous on  the  strength  of  this  excursion  with  his  bet- 
ters. It  is  a  word  and  a  blow  with  the  captain  of  the 
Bonny  Lass,  and  Bill  is  conveniently  disposed  of. 
Dead,  as  well  as  living,  he  serves  the  purpose  of  the 
captain,  but  of  that  later. 

Away  sailed  the  Bonny  Lass,  sailing  once  for  all 
out  of  the  story.  As  for  Captain  Sampson,  there  is 
a  long  gap  in  his  history,  hazily  filled  by  the  story  of 
his  having  been  lieutenant  to  Benito  Bonito,  and 
one  of  the  two  survivors  when  Bonito's  black  flag 
was  brought  down  by  the  British  frigate  Espiegle. 
But  sober  history  knows  nothing  of  him  until  he  re- 
appears years  later,  an  aged  and  broken  man,  in  a 
back  street  of  Bristol.  Here  was  living  a  certain 
Hopperdown,  who  had  been  boatswain  on  the  Bonny 
Lass  at  the  time  that  she  so  regrettably  lost  her  pas- 
sengers overboard.  He  too  had  been  at  Leeward 
Island,  and  may  have  somewhat  wondered  and 
questioned  as  to  the  happenings  during  the  brig's 
brief  stay  there.  He  saw  and  recognized  his  old 
skipper  hobbling  along  the  Bristol  quays,  and  per- 
haps from  pity  took  the  shabby  creature  home  with 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  67 

him.  Hopperdown  dealt  in  sailors'  slops,  and  had  a 
snug  room  or  two  behind  the  shop.  Here  for  a 
while  the  former  Captain  Sampson  dwelt,  and  after 
a  swift  illness  here  he  died.  With  the  hand  of  death 
upon  him,  his  grim  lips  at  last  gave  up  their  secret. 
With  stiffening  fingers  he  traced  a  rough  map,  to  re- 
fresh Hopperdown's  memory  after  the  lapse  of  time 
since  either  had  seen  the  wave-beaten  cliffs  of  Lee- 
ward Island.  For  Captain  Sampson  had  never  been 
able  to  return  to  claim  the  treasure  which  he  had  left 
to  Bill  Halliwell's  silent  guardianship.  Somehow  he 
had  lost  his  own  vessel,  and  there  would  be  rumors 
about,  no  doubt,  which  would  make  it  difficult  for 
him  to  get  another.  If  he  had,  indeed,  sailed  with 
Bonito,  he  had  kept  his  secret  from  his  formidable 
commander.  Even  as  he  had  dealt  with  Bill  Halli- 
well,  so  might  Bonito  deal  by  him — or  at  least  the 
lion's  share  must  be  yielded  to  the  pirate  captain. 
And  the  passion  of  Captain  Sampson's  life  had  come 
to  be  his  gold — his  hidden  hoard  on  far-off  Leeward 
Island.  It  was  his,  now,  all  his.  The  only  other  who 
knew  its  hiding-place,  his  former  mate,  had  been 
killed  in  Havana  in  a  tavern  brawl.  The  secret  of 
the  bright  unattainable  treasure  was  all  the  captain's 
own.  He  dreamed  of  the  doubloons,  gloated  over 


68  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

them,  longed  for  them  with  a  ceaseless  gnawing  pas- 
sion of  desire.  And  in  the  end  he  died,  in  Hopper- 
down's  little  shop  in  the  narrow  Bristol  by-street. 

Hopperdown,  an  aging  man  himself,  and  in  his 
humble  way  contented,  fell  straightway  victim  to  the 
gold-virus.  He  sold  all  he  had,  and  bought  passage 
in  a  sailing  ship  for  Valparaiso,  trusting  that  once  so 
far  on  the  way  he  would  find  means  to  accomplish 
the  rest.  But  the  raging  of  the  fever  in  his  thin  old 
blood  brought  him  to  his  bed,  and  the  ship  sailed 
without  him.  Before  she  was  midway  tn  the  At- 
lantic Hopperdown  was  dead. 

The  old  man  died  in  the  house  of  a  niece,  to  whom 
by  way  of  legacy  he  left  his  map.  For  the  satisfac- 
tion of  his  anxious  mind,  still  poring  on  the  treas- 
ure, she  wrote  down  what  she  could  grasp  of  his 
instructions,  and  then,  being  an  unimaginative 
woman,  gave  the  matter  little  further  heed.  For 
years  the  map  lay  among  other  papers  in  a  drawer, 
and  here  it  was  at  length  discovered  by  her  son, 
himself  a  sailor.  He  learned  from  her  its  history, 
and  having  been  in  the  Pacific,  and  heard  the  tales 
and  rumors  that  cling  about  Leeward  Island  like 
the  everlasting  surf  of  its  encompassing  seas,  this 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  69 

grand-nephew  of  old  Hopperdown's,  by  name  Da- 
vid Jenkins,  became  for  the  rest  of  his  days  a  fol- 
lower of  the  ignis  fatuits.  An  untaught,  suspicious, 
grasping  man,  he  rejected,  or  knew  not  how  to  set 
about,  the  one  course  which  offered  the  least  hope, 
which  was  to  trade  his  secret  for  the  means  of  prof- 
iting by  it.  All  his  restless,  hungry  life  he  spent  in 
wandering  up  and  down  the  seas,  ever  on  the  watch 
for  some  dimly  imagined  chance  by  which  he  might 
come  at  the  treasure.  And  so  at  last  he  wandered 
into  the  London  hospital  where  he  died. 

And  to  me  the  wildest  feature  of  the  whole  wild 
tale  was  that  at  the  last  he  should  have  parted  with 
the  cherished  secret  of  a  lifetime  to  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne. 

In  a  general  way,  every  one  of  us  knew  this  his- 
tory. Even  I  had  had  an  outline  of  it  from  Cuth- 
bert  Vane.  But  so  far  nobody  had  seen  the  map. 
And  now  we  were  to  see  it ;  the  time  that  intervened 
before  that  great  event  had  already  dwindled  to 
minutes,  to  seconds — 

But  no;  for  Miss  Browne  arose  and  began  to 
make  a  speech.  The  beginning  of  it  dealt  in  a  large 
and  generalizing  manner  with  comradeship  and  loy- 


70  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

alty,  and  the  necessity  of  the  proper  mental  attitude 
in  approaching  the  business  we  had  in  hand.  I  did 
not  listen  closely.  The  truth  is,  I  wanted  to  see 
that  map.  Under  the  spell  of  the  island,  I  had  al- 
most begun  to  believe  in  the  chest  of  doubloons. 

Suddenly  I  awoke  with  a  start  to  the  fact  that 
Miss  Browne  was  talking  about  me.  Yes,  I,  indubit- 
ably, was  the  Young  Person  whose  motives  in  at- 
taching herself  to  the  party  were  so  at  variance  with 
the  amity  and  mutual  confidence  which  filled  all 
other  breasts.  It  was  I  who  had  sought  to  deprive 
the  party  of  the  presence,  counsel  and  support  of 
a  member  lacking  whom  it  would  have  been  but  a 
body  without  a  soul.  It  was  I  who  had  uttered 
words  which  were  painful  and  astounding  to  one 
conscious  of  unimpugnable  motives.  In  the  days  of 
toil  to  come,  we  were  reminded,  the  Young  Per- 
son, to  wit,  myself,  would  have  no  share.  She 
would  be  but  skeptic,  critic,  drone  in  the  busy  hive. 
Thus  it  was  obvious  that  the  Young  Person  could 
not  with  any  trace  of  justice  claim  part  or  lot  in 
the  treasure.  Were  it  not  well,  then,  that  the  Young 
Person  be  required  to  make  formal  and  written  re- 
nunciation of  all  interest  in  the  golden  hoard  soon 
to  reward  the  faith  and  enterprise  of  the  Harding- 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  71 

Browne  expedition?    Miss  Browne  requested  the 
sense  of  the  meeting  on  the  matter. 

Under  the  fire  of  this  arraignment  I  sat  hot- 
cheeked  and  incredulous,  while  a  general  wave  of 
agitation  seemed  to  stir  the  drowsy  atmosphere. 
Aunt  Jane  was  quivering,  her  round  eyes  fixed  on 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne  like  a  fascinated  rabbit's 
on  a  serpent.  Mr.  Hamilton  H.  Tubbs  had  pursed 
his  lips  to  an  inaudible  whistle,  and  alternately  re- 
garded the  summits  of  the  palms  and  stole  swift 
ferret-glances  at  the  faces  of  the  company.  Captain 
Magnus  had  taken  a  sheath-knife  from  his  belt  and 
was  balancing  it  on  one  finger,  casting  about  him 
now  and  then  a  furtive,  crooked,  roving  look,  to 
meet  which  made  you  feel  like  a  party  to  some  hid- 
den crime.  Mr.  Vane  had  remained  for  some  time 
in  happy  unconsciousness  of  the  significance  of  Miss 
Browne's  oration.  It  was  something  to  see  it  grad- 
ually penetrate  to  his  perceptions,  vexing  the  ala- 
baster brow  with  a  faint  wrinkle  of  perplexity,  then 
suffusing  his  cheeks  with  agonized  and  indignant 
blushes.  "Oh,  I  say,  really,  you  know !"  hovered  in 
unspoken  protest  on  his  tongue.  He  threw  implor- 
ing looks  at  Mr.  Shaw,  who  alone  of  all  the  party 
sat  imperturbable,  except  for  a  viciously  bitten  lip. 


72  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Miss  Higglesby-Browne  had  drawn  a  deep  breath, 
preparatory  to  resuming  her  verbal  ramble,  but  I 
sprang  to  my  feet. 

"Miss  Browne,"  I  said,  in  tones  less  coldly  calm 
than  I  could  have  wished,  "if  you  have  thought  it 
necessary  to — to  orate  at  this  length  merely  to  tell 
me  that  I  am  to  have  no  share  in  this  ridiculous 
treasure  of  yours,  you  have  wasted  a  great  deal  of 
energy.  In  the  first  place,  I  don't  believe  in  your 
treasure."  (Which,  of  course,  despite  my  temporary 
lapse,  I  really  didn't.)  "I  think  you  are — sillier  than 
any  grown-up  people  I  ever  saw.  In  the  second 
place,  anything  you  do  find  you  are  welcome  to  keep. 
Do  you  think  I  came  along  with  people  who  didn't 
want  me,  and  have  turned  my  own  aunt  against  me, 
for  the  sake  of  filthy  lucre?  Did  I  come  intention- 
ally at  all,  or  because  I  was  shanghaied  and  couldn't 
help  myself?  Aunt  Jane!"  I  demanded,  turning  to 
my  stricken  relative,  who  was  gazing  in  anguish  and 
doubt  from  Miss  Browne  to  me,  "haven't  you  one 
spark  left  of  family  pride — I  don't  talk  of  affection 
any  longer — that  you  sit  still  and  hear  me  made 
speeches  at  in  this  fashion?  Have  you  grown  so 
sordid  and  grasping  that  you  can  think  of  nothing 
but  this  blood-stained  pirate  gold  ?" 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  73 

Aunt  Jane  burst  into  tears. 

"Good  gracious,  Virginia,"  she  wailed,  "how 
shocking  of  you  to  say  such  things !  I  am  sure  we 
all  got  along  very  pleasantly  until  you  came — and 
in  that  dreadfully  sudden  way.  You  might  at  least 
have  been  considerate  enough  to  wire  beforehand. 
As  to  blood-stains,  there  was  a  preparation  your 
Aunt  Susan  had  that  got  them  out  beautifully — I 
remember  the  time  the  little  boy's  nose  bled  on  the 
drawing-room  rug.  But  I  should  think  just  wash- 
ing the  gold  would  do  very  well !" 

It  was  impossible  to  feel  that  these  remarks 
helped  greatly  to  clear  the  situation.  I  opened  my 
mouth,  but  Miss  Browne  was  beforehand  with  me. 

"Miss  Virginia  Harding  has  herself  admitted 
that  she  has  no  just  or  equitable  claim  to  participate 
in  the  profits  of  this  expedition — I  believe  I  give  the 
gist  of  your  words,  Miss  Harding?" 

"Have  it  your  own  way,"  I  said,  shrugging. 

"I  move,  then,  Mr.  Secretary" — Miss  Browne  in- 
clined her  head  in  a  stately  manner  toward  Mr. 
Tubbs — "that  you  offer  for  Miss  Virginia  Hard- 
ing's  signature  the  document  prepared  by  you." 

"Oh,  I  say!"  broke  out  Mr.  Vane  suddenly,  "I 
call  this  rotten,  you  know!" 


74  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"In  case  of  objection  by  any  person,"  said  Miss 
Browne  loftily,  "the  matter  may  be  put  to  a  vote. 
All  those  in  favor  say  aye !" 

An  irregular  fire  of  ayes  followed.  Mr.  Tubbs 
gave  his  with  a  cough  meant  so  far  as  possible  to 
neutralize  its  effect — with  a  view  to  some  future 
turning  of  the  tables.  Captain  Magnus  responded 
with  a  sudden  bellow,  which  caused  him  to  drop  the 
gleaming  knife  within  an  inch  of  Aunt  Jane's  toe. 
Mr.  Shaw  said  briefly,  "I  think  the  distribution  of 
the  treasure,  if  any  is  recovered,  should  be  that 
agreed  upon  by  the  original  members  of  the  party. 
Aye!" 

Aunt  Jane's  assenting  voice  issued  from  the 
depths  of  her  handkerchief,  which  was  rapidly  be- 
coming so  briny  and  inadequate  that  I  passed  her 
mine.  From  Cuthbert  Vane  alone  there  came  a 
steadfast  no — and  the  Scotchman  put  a  hand  on 
the  boy's  shoulder  with  a  smile  which  was  like  sud- 
den sunlight  in  a  bleak  sky. 

Mr.  Tubbs  then  produced  a  legal-looking  docu- 
ment which  I  took  to  be  the  original  agreement  of 
the  members  of  the  expedition.  Beneath  their  sig- 
natures he  had  inscribed  a  sort  of  codicil,  by  which 
I  relinquished  all  claim  on  any  treasure  recovered 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  75 

by  the  party.  Mr.  Tubbs  took  evident  pride  in  the 
numerous  aforesaids  and  thereof s  and  other  rolling 
legal  phrases  of  his  composition,  and  Miss  Browne 
listened  with  satisfaction  as  he  read  it  off,  as  though 
each  word  had  been  a  nail  in  the  coffin  of  my  hopes. 
I  signed  the  clause  in  a  bold  and  defiant  hand,  under 
the  attentive  eyes  of  the  company.  A  sort  of  sigh 
went  round,  as  though  something  of  vast  moment 
had  been  concluded.  And  indeed  it  had,  for  now 
the  way  was  clear  for  Violet's  map. 

I  suppose  that  with  a  due  regard  for  my  dignity 
I  should  have  risen  and  departed.  I  had  been  so 
definitely  relegated  to  the  position  of  outsider  that 
to  remain  to  witness  the  unveiling  of  the  great  mys- 
tery seemed  indecently  intrusive.  Let  it  be  granted, 
then,  that  I  ought  to  have  got  up  with  stately  grace 
and  gone  away.  Only,  I  did  nothing  of  the  sort. 
In  spite  of  my  exclusion  from  all  its  material  bene- 
fits, I  had  an  amateur's  appreciation  of  that  map. 
I  felt  that  I  should  gloat  over  it.  Perhaps  of  all 
those  present  I  alone,  free  from  sordid  hopes,  would 
get  the  true  romantic  zest  and  essence  of  it — 

Covertly  I  watched  the  faces  around  me.  Mr. 
Tubbs's  eyes  had  grown  bright;  he  licked  his  dry 
lips.  His  nose,  tip-tilted  and  slightly  bulbous,  took 


76  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

on  a  more  than  usually  roseate  hue.  Captain  Mag- 
nus, who  was  of  a  restless  and  jerky  habit  at  the 
best  of  times,  was  like  a  leashed  animal  scenting 
blood.  Beneath  his  open  shirt  you  saw  the  quick  rise 
and  fall  of  his  hairy  chest.  His  lips,  drawn  back 
wolfishly,  displayed  yellow,  fang-like  teeth.  Under 
the  raw  crude  greed  of  the  man  you  seemed  to 
glimpse  something  indescribably  vulpine  and  fero- 
cious. 

The  face  of  Dugald  Shaw  was  controlled,  but 
there  was  a  slight  rigidity  in  its  quiet.  A  pulse  beat 
rapidly  in  his  cheek.  All  worldly  good,  all  hope  of 
place,  power,  independence,  hung  for  him  on  the 
contents  of  the  small  flat  package,  wrapped  in  oil- 
silk,  which  Miss  Browne  was  at  this  moment  with- 
drawing from  her  pocket. 

Only  Cuthbert  Vane,  seated  next  to  me,  main- 
tained without  effort  his  serenity.  For  him  the 
whole  affair  belonged  in  the  category  known  as 
sporting,  where  a  gentleman  played  his  stake  and 
accepted  with  equanimity  the  issue. 

As  Miss  Browne  undid  the  oil-silk  package 
everybody  held  his  breath,  except  poor  Aunt  Jane, 
who  most  inopportunely  swallowed  a  gnat  and 
choked. 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  77 

The  dead  sailor's  legacy  consisted  of  a  single 
sheet  of  time-stained  paper.  Two-thirds  of  the 
sheet  was  covered  by  a  roughly-drawn  sketch  in 
faded  ink,  giving  the  outline  of  the  island  shores 
as  we  had  seen  them  from  the  Rufus  Smith.  Here 
was  the  cove,  with  the  name  it  bears  in  the  Admir- 
alty charts — Lantern  Bay — written  in,  and  a  dotted 
line  indicating  the  channel.  North  of  the  bay  the 
shore  line  was  carried  for  only  a  little  distance.  On 
the  south  was  shown  the  long  tongue  of  land  which 
protects  the  anchorage,  and  which  ends  in  some 
detached  rocks  or  islets.  At  a  point  on  the  seaward 
side  of  the  tongue  of  land,  about  on  a  line  with  the 
head  of  the  bay,  the  sketch  ended  in  a  swift  back- 
ward stroke  of  the  pen  which  gave  something  the 
effect  of  a  cross. 

To  all  appearance  the  map  was  merely  to  give 
Hopperdown  his  directions  for  entering  the  cove. 
There  was  absolutely  no  mark  upon  it  to  show 
where  the  treasure  had  been  buried. 

Now  for  the  writing  on  the  sheet  below  the  map. 
It  was  in  another  hand  than  that  which  had  written 
Lantern  Bay  across  the  face  of  the  cove,  and  which, 
though  labored,  was  precise  and  clear.  This  other 
was  an  uneven,  wavering  scrawl: 


78  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

He  sed  it  is  in  a  Cave  with  2  mouths  near  by  the 
grave  of  Bill  Halliwell  wich  was  cut  down  for  he 
new  to  much.  He  sed  you  can  bring  a  boat  to  the 
cave  at  the  half  Tide  but  beware  the  turn  for  the 
pull  is  strong.  He  sed  to  find  the  Grave  again  look 
for  the  stone  at  the  head  marked  B.  H.  and  a  Cross 
Bones.  In  the  Chist  is  gold  Dubloons,  a  vast  lot, 
also  a  silver  Cross  wich  he  sed  leve  for  the  Grave 
for  he  sed  Bill  walks  and  thats  unlucky. 

That  was  all.  A  fairly  clear  direction  for  any 
friend  who  had  attended  the  obsequies  of  Bill  and 
knew  where  to  look  for  the  stone  marked  B.  H. 
and  a  cross-bones,  but  to  perfect  strangers  it  was 
vague. 

A  blank  look  crept  into  the  intent  faces  about  the 
table. 

"It — it  don't  happen  to  say  in  more  deetail  jest 
precisely  where  that  cave  might  be  looked  for?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Tubbs  hopefully. 

"In  more  detail?"  repeated  Miss  Browne  chal- 
lengingly.  "Pray,  Mr.  Tubbs,  what  further  detail 
could  be  required?" 

"A  good  deal  more,  I  am  afraid,"  remarked  the 
Scotchman  grimly. 

Miss  Browne  whirled  upon  him.  In  her  cold  eye 
a  spark  had  kindled.  And  suddenly  I  had  a  new 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  79 

vision  of  her.  I  saw  her  no  longer  as  the  deluder  of 
Aunt  Jane,  but  as  herself  the  deluded.  Her  belief 
in  the  treasure  was  an  obsession.  This  map  was  her 
talisman,  her  way  of  escape  from  an  existence  which 
had  been  drab  and  dull  enough,  I  dare  say. 

"Mr.  Shaw,  we  are  given  not  one,  but  several 
infallible  landmarks.  The  cave  has  two  mouths,  it 
can  be  approached  by  sea,  it  is  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  the  grave  of  William  Halliwell, 
which  is  to  be  recognized  by  its  headstone.  As  the 
area  of  our  search  is  circumscribed  by  the  narrow 
limits  of  this  island,  I  fail  to  see  what  further  marks 
of  identification  can  be  required." 

"A  grave  ninety  years  old  and  hidden  beneath  a 
tropical  jungle  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  find,  Miss 
Browne.  As  to  caves,  I  doubt  but  they  are  numer- 
ous. The  formation  here  makes  it  more  than  likely. 
And  there'll  be  more  than  one  with  two  mouths,  I'm 
thinking." 

"Mr.  Shaw" — Miss  Browne  gave  the  effect  of 
drawing  herself  up  in  line  of  battle — "I  feel  that 
I  must  give  expression  to  the  thought  which  comes 
to  me  at  this  moment.  It  is  this — that  if  the  mem- 
bers of  this  party  are  to  be  chilled  by  carping  doubts, 
the  wave  of  enthusiasm  which  has  floated  us  thus 


80  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

far  must  inevitably  recede,  leaving  us  flotsam  on  a 
barren  shore.  What  can  one  weak  woman — pardon, 
rny  unfaltering  Jane! — two  women,  achieve  against 
the  thought  of  failure  firmly  held  by  him  to  whom 
we  looked  to  lead  us  boldly  in  our  forward  dash? 
Mr.  Shaw,  this  is  no  time  for  crawling  earthworm 
tactics.  It  is  with  the  bold  and  sweeping  glance  of 
the  eagle  that  we  must  survey  this  island,  until,  the 
proper  point  discerned,  we  swoop  with  majestic 
flight  upon  our  predestined  goal!" 

Miss  Browne  was  somewhat  exhausted  by  this 
effort,  and  paused  for  breath,  whereupon  Mr. 
Tubbs,  anxious  to  retrieve  his  recent  blunder,  seized 
with  dexterity  this  opportunity. 

"I  get  you,  Miss  Browne,  I  get  you,"  said  Mr. 
Tubbs  with  conviction.  "Victory  ain't  within  the 
grasp  of  any  individual  that  carries  a  heart  like  a 
cold  pancake  in  his  bosom.  What  this  party  needs 
is  pep,  and  if  them  that  was  calculated  on  to  supply 
it  don't,  why  there's  others  which  is  not  given  to 
blowin'  their  own  horn,  but  which  might  at  a  pinch 
dash  forward  like  Arnold — no  relation  to  Benedict 
— among  the  spears.  I  may  be  rather  a  man  of 
thought  than  action,  ma'am,  and  at  present  far  from 
my  native  heath,  which  is  the  financial  centers  of 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  LEGACY  81 

the  country,  but  if  I  remember  right  it  was  Ulysses 
done  the  dome-work  for  the  Greeks,  while  certain 
persons  that  was  depended  on  sulked  in  their  tents. 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne,  you  can  count — count,  I 
say— on  old  H.  H. !" 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Tubbs,  I  thank  you!"  replied 
Miss  Browne  with  emotion.  As  for  Aunt  Jane,  she 
gazed  upon  the  noble  countenance  of  Mr.  Tubbs 
with  such  ecstatic  admiration  that  her  little  nose 
quivered  like  a  guinea-pig's. 


VI 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS 

OBSCURE  as  were  the  directions  which  Hop- 
perdown's  niece  had  taken  from  his  dying 
lips,  one  point  at  least  was  clear — the  treasure-cave 
opened  on  the  sea.  This  seemed  an  immense  sim- 
plification of  the  problem,  until  you  discovered  that 
the  great  wall  of  cliffs  was  honeycombed  with  fis- 
sures. The  limestone  rock  of  which  the  island  was 
composed  was  porous  as  a  sponge.  You  could  stand 
on  the  edge  of  the  cliffs  and  watch  the  green  water 
slide  in  and  out  of  unseen  caverns  at  your  feet,  and 
hear  the  sullen  thunder  of  the  waves  that  broke  far 
in  under  the  land. 

One  of  the  boats  which  had  conveyed  us  from  the 
Rufus  Smith  had  been  left  with  us,  and  in  it  Mr. 
Shaw,  with  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  and  Captain 
Magnus,  made  a  preliminary  voyage  of  discovery. 
This  yielded  the  information  above  set  down,  plus, 
however,  the  thrilling  and  significant  fact  that  a 
82 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS       83 

cave  seemingly  predestined  to  be  the  hiding-place 
of  treasure,  and  moreover  a  cave  with  the  specified 
two  openings,  ran  under  the  point  which  protected 
the  anchorage  on  the  south,  connecting  the  cove  with 
the  sea. 

Although  in  their  survey  of  the  coast  the  voyag- 
ers had  covered  only  a  little  distance  on  either  side 
of  the  entrance  to  the  bay,  the  discovery  of  this 
great  double-doored  sea-chamber  under  the  point 
turned  all  thoughts  from  further  explorations.  Only 
the  Scotchman  remained  exasperatingly  calm  and 
declined  to  admit  that  the  treasure  was  as  good  as 
found.  He  refused  to  be  swept  off  his  feet  even  by 
Mr.  Tubbs's  undertaking  to  double  everybody's 
money  within  a  year,  through  the  favor  of  certain 
financial  parties  with  whom  he  was  intimate. 

"I'll  wait  till  I  see  the  color  of  my  money  before 
I  reckon  the  interest  on  it,"  he  remarked.  "It's  true 
the  cave  would  be  a  likely  and  convenient  place  for 
hiding  the  chest ;  the  question  is :  Wouldn't  it  be  too 
likely  and  convenient?  Sampson  would  maybe  not 
choose  the  spot  of  all  others  where  the  first  comer 
who  had  got  wind  of  the  story  would  be  certain  to 
look." 

Miss  Browne,  at  this,  exchanged  darkly  signifi- 


84  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

cant  glances  with  her  two  main  supporters,  and  Mr. 
Tubbs  came  to  the  fore  with  an  offer  to  clinch  mat- 
ters by  discovering  the  grave  of  Bill  Halliwell,  with 
its  marked  stone,  on  the  point  above  the  cave  within 
twenty- four  hours. 

"Look  for  it  if  you  like,"  replied  Mr.  Shaw  im- 
patiently. "But  don't  forget  that  your  tombstone 
is  neither  more  nor  less  than  such  a  boulder  as  there 
are  thousands  of  on  the  island,  and  buried  under 
the  tropic  growth  of  ninety  years  besides." 

Miss  Browne  murmured  to  Aunt  Jane,  in  a  loud 
aside,  that  she  well  understood  now  why  the  eminent 
explorer  had  not  discovered  the  South  Pole,  and 
Aunt  Jane  murmured  back  that  to  her  there  had 
always  been  something  so  sacred  about  a  tombstone 
that  she  couldn't  help  wondering  if  Mr.  Shaw's  at- 
titude were  really  quite  reverential. 

"Well,  friends,"  remarked  Mr.  Tubbs,  "there's 
them  that  sees  nothin'  but  the  hole  in  the  dough- 
nut, and  there's  them  that  see  the  doughnut  that's 
around  the  hole.  I  ain't  ashamed  to  say  that  old 
H.  H.  is  in  the  doughnut  class.  Why,  the  Old  Man 
himself  used  to  remark — I  guess  it  ain't  news  to 
some  here  about  me  bein'  on  the  inside  with  most 
of  the  leadin'  financial  lights  of  the  country — he 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS      85 

used  to  remark,  'Tubbs  has  it  in  him  to  bull  the  mar- 
ket on  a  Black  Friday/  Ladies,  I  ain't  one  that's 
inclined  to  boast,  but  I  jest  want  to  warn  you  not 
to  be  too  astonished  when  H.  H.  makes  acquaintance 
with  that  tombstone,  which  I'm  willin'  to  lay  he  does 
yet." 

"Well,  good  luck  to  you,"  said  the  grim  Scot, 
"and  let  me  likewise  warn  all  hands  not  to  be  too 
astonished  if  we  find  that  the  treasure  is  not  in  the 
cave.  But  I'll  admit  it  is  as  good  a  place  as  any  for 
beginning  the  search,  and  there  will  be  none  gladder 
than  I  if  it  turns  out  that  I  was  no  judge  of  the 
workings  of  Captain  Sampson's  mind." 

The  cave  which  was  now  the  center  of  our  hopes 
— I  say  our,  because  somehow  or  other  I  found  my- 
self hoping  and  fearing  along  with  the  rest,  though 
carefully  concealing  it — ran  under  the  point  at  its 
farther  end.  The  sea-mouth  of  the  cave  was  pro- 
tected from  the  full  swell  of  the  ocean  by  some  huge 
detached  rocks  rising  a  little  way  offshore,  which 
caught  and  broke  the  waves.  The  distance  was 
about  sixty  feet  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  back  of 
this  transverse  _  passage  a  great  vaulted  chamber 
stretched  far  under  the  land.  The  walls  of  the  cham- 
ber rose  sheer  to  a  height  of  fifteen  feet  or  more, 


86  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

when  a  broad  ledge  broke  their  smoothness.  From 
this  ledge  opened  cracks  and  fissures  under  the  roof, 
suggesting  in  the  dim  light  infinite  possibilities  in 
the  way  of  hiding-places.  Besides  these,  a  wide 
stretch  of  sand  at  the  upper  end  of  the  chamber, 
which  was  bare  at  low  tide,  invited  exploration.  At 
high  water  the  sea  flooded  the  cavern  to  its  farthest 
extremity  and  beat  upon  the  walls.  Then  there 
was  a  great  surge  and  roar  of  waters  through  the 
passage  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  at  turn  of  tide 
— in  hopeful  agreement  with  the  legend — the  suck 
and  commotion  of  a  whirlpool,  almost,  as  the  sea 
drew  back  its  waves.  Now  and  again,  it  was  to 
prove,  even  the  water-worn  pavement  between  the 
two  archways  was  left  bare,  and  one  could  walk 
dry-shod  along  the  rocks  under  the  high  land  of  the 
point  from  the  beach  to  the  cave.  But  this  was  at 
the  very  bottom  of  the  ebb.  Mostly  the  lower  end 
of  the  cave  was  flooded,  and  the  explorers  went  back 
and  forth  in  the  boat. 

A  certain  drawback  to  boating  in  our  island  wa- 
ters was  the  presence  of  hungry  hordes  of  sharks. 
You  might  forget  them  for  a  moment  and  sit  hap- 
pily trailing  your  fingers  overboard,  and  then  a  huge 
moving  shadow  would  darken  the  water,  and  you 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS      87 

saw  the  ripple  cut  by  a  darting  fin  and  the  flash  of 
a  livid  belly  as  the  monster  rolled  over,  ready  for 
his  mouthful.  I  could  not  but  admire  the  thought- 
fulness  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  who  since  his  submergence 
on  the  occasion  of  arriving  had  been  as  delicate 
about  water  as  a  cat,  in  committing  himself  to 
strictly  land  operations  in  the  search  for  Bill  Halli- 
well's  tombstone. 

Owing,  I  suppose,  to  the  stoniness  of  the  soil,  the 
woods  upon  the  point  were  less  dense  than  else- 
where, and  made  an  agreeable  parade  ground  for 
Mr.  Tubbs  and  his  two  companions — for  he  was  ac- 
companied in  these  daring  explorations  with  un- 
swerving fidelity  by  Aunt  Jane  and  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne.  Each  of  the  three  carried  an  umbrella,  and 
they  went  solemnly  in  single  file,  Mr.  Tubbs  in  the 
lead  to  ward  off  peril  in  the  shape  of  snakes  or 
jungle  beasts, 

"To  think  of  what  that  man  exposes  himself  to 
for  our  sakes !"  Aunt  Jane  said  to  me  with  emotion. 
"With  no  protection  but  his  own  bravery  in  case 
anything  were  to  spring  out !" 

But  nothing  ever  did  spring  out  but  an  angry  old 
sow  with  a  litter  of  piglets,  before  which  the  three 
umbrellas  beat  a  rapid  retreat. 


88  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

The  routine  of  life  on  the  island  was  now  estab- 
lished for  every  one  but  me,  who  belonged  neither 
to  the  land  nor  sea  divisions,  but  dangled  forlornly 
between  them  like  Mahomet's  coffin.  Aunt  Jane  had 
made  a  magnanimous  effort  to  attach  me  to  the  um- 
brella contingent,  and  I  had  felt  almost  disposed  to 
accept,  in  order  to  witness  the  resultant  delight  of 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne.  But  on  second  thoughts 
I  declined,  even  though  Aunt  Jane  was  thus  left 
unguarded  to  the  blandishments  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  pre- 
ferring, like  the  little  bird  in  the  play,  to  flock  all 
alone,  except  when  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  could 
escape  from  his  toil  in  the  cave. 

What  with  the  genius  of  Cookie  and  the  fruit- 
fulness  of  our  island,  not  to  speak  of  supplies  from 
the  Army  and  Navy  Stores,  we  lived  like  sybarites. 
There  were  fish  from  stream  and  sea,  cocoanuts  and 
bananas  and  oranges  from  the  trees  in  the  clearing. 
I  had  hopes  of  yams  and  breadfruit  also,  but  if 
they  grew  on  Leeward  none  of  us  had  a  speaking 
acquaintance  with  them.  Cookie  did  wonders  with 
the  pigs  that  were  shot  and  brought  in  to  him, 
though  I  never  could  sit  down  with  appetite  to  a 
massacred  infant  served  up  on  a  platter,  which  is 
just  what  little  pigs  look  like. 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS       89 

"Jes'  y0'  cas'  yo'  eye  on  dis  yere  innahcent," 
Cookie  would  request,  as  he  placed  the  suckling  be- 
fore Mr.  Tubbs.  "Tendah  as  a  new-bo'n  babe,  he 
am.  Jes'  lak  he  been  tucked  up  to  sleep  by  his 
mammy.  Sho'  now,  how  yo'  got  de  heart  to  stick 
de  knife  in  him,  Mistah  Tubbs?" 

It  was  significant  that  Mr.  Tubbs,  after  occupy- 
ing for  a  day  or  two  an  undistinguished  middle 
place  at  the  board,  had  somehow  slid  into  the  carv- 
er's post  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Flanking  him 
were  the  two  ladies,  so  that  the  Land  Forces  formed 
a  solid  and  imposing  phalanx.  Everybody  else  had 
a  sense  of  sitting  in  outer  darkness,  particularly  I, 
whom  fate  had  placed  opposite  Captain  Magnus. 
Since  landing  on  the  island,  Captain  Magnus  had 
forsworn  the  effeminacy  of  forks.  Loaded  to  the 
hilt,  his  knife  would  approach  his  cavernous  mouth 
and  disappear  in  it.  Yet  when  it  emerged  Captain 
Magnus  was  alive.  Where  did  it  go?  This  was  a 
question  that  agitated  me  daily. 

The  history  of  Captain  Magnus  was  obscure.  It 
was  certain  that  he  had  his  captain's  papers,  though 
how  he  had  mastered  the  science  of  navigation  suf- 
ficiently to  obtain"  them  was  a  problem.  Though  he 
held  a  British  navigator's  license,  he  did  not  appear 


90  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

to  be  an  Englishman.  None  of  us  ever  knew,  I 
think,  from  what  country  he  originally  came.  His 
rough,  mumbling,  unready  speech  might  have  been 
picked  up  in  any  of  the  seaports  of  the  English- 
speaking  world.  His  manners  smacked  of  the  fore- 
castle, and  he  was  altogether  so  difficult  to  classify 
that  I  used  to  toy  with  the  theory  that  he  had  mur- 
dered the  real  Captain  Magnus  for  his  papers  and 
was  masquerading  in  his  character. 

The  captain,  as  Mr.  Vane  had  remarked,  was 
Miss  Browne's  own  find.  Before  the  objections  of 
Mr.  Shaw  —  evidently  a  Negative  Influence  from 
the  beginning  —  had  caused  her  to  abandon  the 
scheme,  Miss  Browne  had  planned  to  charter  a  ves- 
sel in  New  York  and  sail  around  the  Horn  to  the 
island.  While  nursing  this  project  she  had  formed 
an  extensive  acquaintance  with  persons  frequent- 
ing the  New  York  water-front,  among  whom  was 
Captain  Magnus.  As  I  heard  her  remark,  he  was 
the  one  nautical  character  whom  she  found  sympa- 
thetic, by  which  I  judge  that  the  others  were  skep- 
tical and  rude.  Being  sympathetic,  Captain  Magnus 
found  it  an  easy  matter  to  attach  himself  to  the  ex- 
pedition—  or  perhaps  it  was  Violet  who  annexed 
him,  I  don't  know  which. 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS       91 

Mr.  Vane  used  to  view  the  remarkable  gastro- 
nomic feats  of  Captain  Magnus  with  the  innocent 
and  quite  unscornful  curiosity  of  a  little  boy  watch- 
ing the  bears  in  the  zoo.  Evidently  he  felt  that  a 
horizon  hitherto  bounded  mainly  by  High  Staunton 
Manor  was  being  greatly  enlarged.  I  knew  now 
that  the  Honorable  Cuthbert's  father  was  a  baron, 
and  that  he  was  the  younger  of  two  sons,  and  that 
the  elder  was  an  invalid,  so  that  the  beautiful  youth 
was  quite  certain  in  the  long  run  to  be  Lord  Gras- 
mere.  I  had  remained  stolid  under  this  informa- 
tion, feelingly  imparted  by  Aunt  Jane.  I  had  re- 
fused to  ask  questions  about  High  Staunton  Manor. 
For  already  there  was  a  vast  amount  of  superfluous 
chaperoning  being  done.  I  couldn't  speak  to  the 
b.  y. — which  is  short  for  beautiful  youth — without 
Violet's  cold  gray  eye  being  trained  upon  us.  And 
Aunt  Jane  grew  flustered  directly,  and  I  could  see 
her  planning  an  embroidery  design  of  coronets,  or 
whatever  is  the  proper  headgear  of  barons,  for  my 
trousseau.  Mr.  Tubbs  had  essayed  to  be  facetious 
on  the  matter,  but  I  had  coldly  quenched  him. 

But  Mr.  Shaw~was  much  the  worst.  My  most 
innocent  remark  to  the  beautiful  youth  appeared  to 
rouse  suspicion  in  his  self-constituted  guardian.  If 


92  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

he  did  not  say  in  so  many  words,  Beware,  dear  lad, 
she's  stringing  you!  or  whatever  the  English  of  that 
is,  it  was  because  nobody  could  so  wound  the  faith 
in  the  b.  y.'s  candid  eyes.  But  to  see  the  fluttering, 
anxious  wing  the  Scotchman  tried  to  spread  over 
that  babe  of  six- feet- two  you  would  have  thought 
me  a  man-eating  tigress.  And  I  laughed,  and 
flaunted  my  indifference  in  his  sober  face,  and  went 
away  with  bitten  lips  to  the  hammock  they  had 
swung  for  me  among  the  palms — 

The  Honorable  Cuthbert  had  a  voice,  a  big,  rich, 
ringing  baritone  like  floods  of  golden  honey.  He 
had  also  a  ridiculous  little  ukulele,  on  which  he  ac- 
companied himself  with  a  rhythmic  strumming. 
When,  like  the  sudden  falling  of  a  curtain,  dusky, 
velvet,  star-spangled,  the  wonderful  tropic  night 
came  down,  we  used  to  build  a  little  fire  upon  the 
beach  and  sit  around  it.  Then  Cuthbert  Vane  would 
sing.  Of  all  his  repertory,  made  up  of  music-hall 
ditties,  American  ragtime,  and  sweet  old  half-for- 
gotten ballads,  we  liked  best  a  certain  wild  rollick- 
ing song,  picked  up  I  don't  know  where,  but  won- 
derfully effective  on  that  island  where  Davis,  and 
Benito  Bonito,  and  many  another  of  the  roving  gen- 
try— not  to  mention  that  less  picturesque  villain, 


THE  CAVE  WITH  TWO  MOUTHS      93 

Captain  Sampson  of  the  Bonny  Lass — had  resorted 
between  their  flings  with  fortune. 

Oh,  who's,  who's  with  me  for  the  free  life  of  a 

rover  ? 
Oh,  who's,  who's  with  me  for  to  sail  the  broad  seas 

over? 

In  every  port  we  have  gold  to  fling, 
And  what  care  we  though  the  end  is  to  swing? 
Sing  ho,  sing  hey,  this  life's  but  a  day, 
So  live  it  free  as  a  rover  may. 

Oh,  who's,  who's  with  me  at  Fortune's  call  to  wan- 
der? 

Then,  lads,  to  sea — and  ashore  with  gold  to  squan- 
der! 

We'll  set  our  course  for  the  Spanish  Main 

Where  the  great  plate-galleons  steer  for  Spain. 

Sing  ho,  sing  hey,  this  life's  but  a  day, 

Then  live  it  free  as  a  rover  may. 

Then  leave  toil  and  cold  to  the  lubbers  that  will 

bear  it. 
The  world's  fat  with  gold,  and  we're  the  lads  to 

share  it. 

What  though  swift  death  is  the  rover's  lot? 
We've  played  the  game  and  we'll  pay  the  shot. 
Sing  ho,  sing  hey,  this  life's  but  a  day, 
Then  live  it  free  as  a  rover  may. 

"Sing  ho,  sing  hey!"  echoed  the  audience  in  a 


94  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

loud  discordant  roar,  Cookie  over  his  dishpan  fling- 
ing it  back  in  a  tremendous  basso.  Cookie  was  the 
noble  youth's  only  musical  rival,  and  when  he  had 
finished  his  work  we  would  invite  him  to  join  us  at 
the  fire  and  regale  us  with  plantation  melodies  and 
camp-meeting  hymns.  The  negro's  melodious  thun- 
der mingled  with  the  murmur  of  wind  and  wave 
like  a  kindred  note,  and  the  strange  plaintive  rhythm 
of  his  artless  songs  took  one  back  and  back,  far  up 
the  stream  of  life,  until  a  fire  upon  a  beach  seemed 
one's  ancestral  hearth  and  home. 

I  realized  that  life  on  Leeward  Island  might  rap- 
idly become  a  process  of  reversion. 


VII 


A  RABBITS  FOOT 

IT  WAS  fortunate  that  Cookie  knew  nothing  of 
the  solitary  grave  somewhere  on  the  island, 
with  its  stone  marked  with  B.  H.  and  a  cross-bones, 
nor  that  the  inhabitant  thereof  was  supposed  to 
walk.  If  he  had,  I  think  the  strange  spectacle  of  a 
lone  negro  in  a  small  boat  rowing  lustily  for  the 
American  continent  might  soon  have  been  witnessed 
on  the  Pacific  by  any  eyes  that  were  there  to  see. 
And  we  could  ill  have  spared  either  boat  or  cook. 

Yet  even  though  unvexed  by  this  gruesome 
knowledge,  after  two  or  three  days  I  noticed  that 
Cookie  was  ill  at  ease.  As  the  leisure  member  of 
the  party,  I  enjoyed  more  of  Cookie's  society  than 
the  rest.  On  this  occasion  while  the  morning  was 
still  in  its  early  freshness  he  was  permitting  me  to 
make  fudge.  But  his  usual  joviality  was  gone.  I 
saw  that  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  intervals, 
muttering  darkly  to  himself.  Also  that  a  rabbit's 
foot  was  slung  conspicuously  about  his  neck. 
95 


96  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Having  made  my  fudge  and  set  the  pan  on  a  stone 
in  the  stream  to  cool,  I  was  about  to  retire  with  a 
view  to  conducting  a  limited  exploring  expedition 
of  my  own.  The  immunity  of  the  umbrellas  and  the 
assurances  of  Mr.  Shaw — not  personally  directed 
to  me,  of  course;  the  armed  truce  under  which  we 
lived  did  not  permit  of  that — had  convinced  me 
that  I  had  not  to  dread  anything  more  ferocious 
than  the  pigs,  and  the  wildest  of  them  would  retire 
before  a  stick  or  stone.  Besides,  I  boasted  a  little 
automatic,  which  I  carried  strapped  about  my  waist 
in  a  businesslike  manner.  Mr.  Vane  had  almost  got 
me  to  the  point  where  I  could  shoot  it  off  without 
shutting  my  eyes. 

Thus  equipped,  I  was  about  to  set  off  into  the 
woods.  Secretly  I  had  been  rehearsing  a  dramatic 
scene,  with  myself  in  the  leading  role : 

Treasure-seekers  assembled,  including  a  cold  and 
cynical  Scot.  Enter  Virginia  Harding.  She  wears 
an  expression  elaborately  casual,  but  there  is  a  light 
of  concealed  triumph  in  her  eye. 

Aunt  Jane:  You  thoughtless  child,  where  have 
you  been?  Really,  my  state  of  mind  about  you — 
etc.,  etc. 

V.  H. :  Only  for  a  stroll,  dear  aunt.   And  by  the 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  97 

way,  in  case  it's  of  interest  to  any  one,  I  might  men- 
tion that  during  my  walk  I  fell  over  a  boulder  which 
happened  to  be  marked  with  the  letters  B.  H.  and  a 
cross-bones. 

Immense  commotion  and  excitement.  Every  gaze 
turned  to  V.  H.  (including  that  of  cynical  Scot) 
while  on  every  cheek  is  the  blush  of  shame  at  re- 
membering that  this  is  the  same  Young  Person 
whom  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  was  permitted  to  cut 
off  by  treaty  from  the  ranks  of  the  authorized  trea- 
sure-seekers. 

Lured  by  this  pleasing  vision  I  had  turned  my 
back  on  Cookie  and  the  camp,  when  I  was  arrested 
by  an  exclamation : 

"Miss  Jinny!" 

1  turned  to  find  Cookie' gazing  after  me  with  an 
expression  which,  in  the  familiar  phrase  of  fiction, 
I  could  not  interpret,  though  among  its  ingredients 
were  doubt  and  anguish.  Cookie,  too,  looked  pale. 
I  don't  in  the  least  know  how  he  managed  it,  but 
that  was  the  impression  he  conveyed,  dusky  as  he 
was. 

"Miss  Jinny,Mit  mos'  look  lak  yo'  'bout  to  go 
perambulatin'  in  dese  yere  woods?" 

"I  am,  Cookie,"  I  admitted. 


98  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

The  whites  of  Cookie's  eyes  became  alarmingly 
conspicuous.  Drawing  near  in  a  stealthy  manner  he 
whispered : 

"Yo'  bettah  not,  Miss  Jinny!" 

"Better  not?"  I  repeated,  staring. 

He  answered  with  a  portentous  head-shake. 

"Oh,  nonsense,  Cookie!"  I  said  impatiently. 
"There's  not  a  thing  on  the  island  but  the  pigs!" 

"Miss  Jinny,"  he  solemnly  replied,  "dey's  pigs 
and  pigs." 

"Yes,  but  pigs  is  pigs,  you  know,"  I  answered, 
laughing.  I  was  about  to  walk  on,  but  once  more 
Cookie  intervened. 

"Dey's  pigs  and  pigs,  chile — live  ones  and — dead 
ones." 

"Dead  ones?  Of  course — haven't  we  been  eating 
them?" 

"Yo'  won't  neveh  eat  dis  yere  kind  o'  dead  pig, 
Miss  Jinny.  It's — it's  a  ha'nt !" 

The  murder  was  out.  Cookie  leaned  against  a 
cocoa-palm  and  wiped  his  ebon  brow. 

Persistently  questioned,  he  told  at  last  how,  to- 
day and  yesterday,  arising  in  the  dim  dawn  to  build 
his  fire  before  the  camp  was  stirring,  he  had  seen 
lurking  at  the  edge  of  the  clearing  a  white  four- 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  99 

footed  shape.  It  was  a  pig,  yet  not  a  pig ;  its  ghostly 
hue,  its  noiseless  movements,  divided  it  from  all 
proper  mundane  porkers  by  the  dreadful  gulf  which 
divides  the  living  from  the  dead.  The  first  morning 
Cookie,  doubtful  of  his  senses,  had  flung  a  stone  and 
the  spectral  Thing  had  vanished  like  a  shadow.  On 
its  second  appearance,  having  had  a  day  and  a  night 
for  meditation,  he  had  known  better  than  to  com- 
mit such  an  outrage  upon  the  possessor  of  ghostly 
powers,  and  had  resorted  to  prayer  instead.  This 
had  answered  quite  as  well,  for  the  phantom  pig 
had  dissolved  like  the  morning  mists.  While  the  sun 
blazed,  what  with  his  devotions  and  his  rabbit's  foot 
and  a  cross  of  twigs  nailed  to  a  tree,  Cookie  felt  a 
fair  degree  of  security.  But  his  teeth  chattered  in 
his  head  at  the  thought  of  approaching  night.  Mean- 
while he  could  not  in  conscience  permit  me  to  ven- 
ture forth  into  the  path  of  this  horror,  which  might, 
for  all  we  knew,  be  lurking  in  the  jungle  shadows 
even  through  the  daylight  hours.  Also,  though  he 
did  not  avow  this  motive,  I  believe  he  found  my 
company  very  reassuring.  It  is  immensely  easier  to 
face  a  ghost  in  the  sustaining  presence  of  other  flesh 
and  blood. 

"Cookie,"  said  I  sternly,  "you've  been  drinking 


100  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

too  much  cocoanut-milk  and  it  has  gone  to  your 
head.  What  you  saw  was  just  a  plain  ordinary  pig." 

Cookie  disputed  this,  citing  the  pale  hue  of  the 
apparition  as  against  the  fact  that  all  our  island  pigs 
were  black. 

"Then  there  happens  to  be  a  blond  pig  among 
them  that  we  haven't  seen,"  I  assured  him. 

But  the  pig  of  flesh,  Cookie  reminded  me,  was  a 
heavy  lumbering  creature.  This  Shape  was  silent 
as  a  moonbeam.  There  was  also  about  it  a  dreadful 
appearance  of  stealth  and  secrecy — Cookie's  eyes 
bulged  at  the  recollection.  Nothing  living  but  a 
witch's  cat  could  have  disappeared  from  Cookie's 
vision  as  did  the  ghostly  pig. 

For  a  moment  I  wavered  in  my  determination. 
What  if  the  island  had  its  wild  creatures  after  all? 
But  neither  lynx  nor  panther  nor  any  other  beast 
of  prey  is  white,  except  a  polar  bear,  and  it  would 
be  unusual  to  meet  one  on  a  tropical  island. 

I  decided  that  Cookie's  pig  was  after  all  a  pig, 
though  still  in  the  flesh.  I  thought  I  remembered 
having  seen  quite  fair  pigs,  which  would  pass  for 
white  with  a  frightened  negro  in  the  dim  light  of 
dawn.  So  far  only  black  pigs  had  been  visible,  but 
perhaps  the  light  ones  were  shyer  and  kept  to  the 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  101 

remote  parts  of  the  island.  I  consoled  Cookie  as 
best  I  could  by  promising  to  cross  my  fingers  if  I 
heard  or  saw  anything  suspicious,  and  struck  out 
into  the  woods. 

For  all  my  brave  words  to  Cookie,  I  had  no  in- 
tention of  going  very  far  afield.  From  the  shore  of 
the  cove  I  had  observed  that  the  ground  behind  the 
clearing  rose  to  the  summit  of  a  low  ridge,  perhaps 
four  hundred  feet  in  height,  which  jutted  from  the 
base  of  the  peak.  From  this  ridge  I  thought  I  might 
see  something  more  of  the  island  than  the  limited 
environment  of  Lantern  Bay. 

As  the  woods  shut  out  the  last  glimpse  of  the 
white  tents  in  the  clearing,  as  even  the  familiar 
sound  of  the  surf  died  down  to  a  faint,  half-imag- 
ined whisper  mingling  with  the  rustling  of  the  palms 
overhead,  I  experienced  a  certain  discomfort,  which 
persons  given  to  harsh  and  unqualified  terms  might 
have  called  fear.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  a  very  strong 
cord  at  the  rear  of  my  belt  were  jerking  me  back 
toward  the  inglorious  safety  of  camp.  Fortunately 
there  came  to  me  a  vision  of  the  three  umbrellas 
and  of  Mr.  Tubbs  heroically  exposing  his  devoted 
bosom  to  non-existent  perils,  and  I  resolved  that  the 
superior  smiles  with  which  I  had  greeted  Aunt 


102  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Jane's  recital  should  not  rise  up  to  shame  me  now. 
I  fingered  my  automatic  and  marched  on  up  the  hill, 
trying  not  to  gasp  when  a  leaf  rustled  or  a  cocoanut 
dropped  in  the  woods. 

There  was  little  undergrowth  between  the  crowd- 
ing trunks  of  the  cocoa-palms.  Far  overhead  their 
fronds  mingled  in  a  green  thatch,  through  which  a 
soft  light  filtered  down.  Here  and  there  the  close 
ranks  of  the  palms  were  broken  by  an  outcropping 
of  rock,  glaring  up  hot  and  sunbeaten  at  a  distant 
patch  of  the  sky.  The  air  of  the  forest  was  still  and 
languid,  its  heat  tempered  like  that  of  a  room  with 
drawn  blinds. 

I  gained  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  and  stood  upon 
a  bare  rock  platform,  scantily  sheltered  by  a  few 
trees,  large  shrubs  rather,  with  a  smooth  waxy  leaf 
of  vivid  green.  On  the  left  rose  the  great  mass  of 
the  peak.  From  far  above  among  its  crags  a  beau- 
tiful foamy  waterfall  came  hurtling  down.  Before 
me  the  ground  fell  away  to  the  level  of  the  low 
plateau,  or  mesa,  as  we  say  in  California,  which 
made  up  the  greater  part  of  the  island.  Cutting  into 
the  green  of  this  was  the  gleaming  curve  of  a  little 
bay,  which  in  Mr.  Shaw's  chart  of  the  island  showed 
slightly  larger  than  our  cove.  Part  of  it  was  hidden 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  103 

by  the  shoulder  of  the  peak,  but  enough  was  visible 
to  give  a  beautiful  variety  to  the  picture,  which  was 
set  in  a  silver  frame  of  sea. 

I  had  not  dreamed  of  getting  a  view  so  glorious 
from  the  little  eminence  of  the  ridge.  Here  was  an 
item  of  news  to  take  back  to  camp.  Having  with 
great  originality  christened  the  place  Lookout,  I 
turned  to  go.  And  as  I  turned  I  saw  a  shape  vanish 
into  the  woods. 

It  was  an  animal,  not  a  human  shape.  And  it  was 
light-footed  and  swift  and  noiseless  —  and  it  was 
white.  It  had,  indeed,  every  distinguishing  trait  of 
Cookie's  phantom  pig.  Only  it  was  not  a  pig.  My 
brief  shadowy  glimpse  of  it  had  told  me  that.  I 
knew  what  it  was  not,  but  what  it  was  I  could  not, 
as  I  stood  there  rooted,  even  guess. 

Would  it  attack  me,  or  should  I  only  die  of 
fright?  I  wondered  if  my  heart  were  weak,  and 
hoped  it  was,  so  that  I  should  not  live  to  feel  the 
teeth  of  the  unknown  Thing  sink  in  my  flesh.  I 
thought  of  my  revolver  and  after  an  infinity  of  time 
managed  to  draw  it  from  the  case.  My  fingers 
seemed  at  once  nervelessly  limp  and  woodenly  rigid. 
This  was  not  af  all  the  dauntless  front  with  which 
I  had  dreamed  of  meeting  danger.  I  had  fancied 


104  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

myself  with  my  automatic  making  a  rather  pretty 
picture  as  a  young  Amazon — but  I  had  now  a  dread- 
ful fear  that  my  revolver  might  spasmodically  go 
off  and  wound  the  Thing,  and  then  even  if  it  had 
meditated  letting  me  go  it  would  certainly  attack 
me.  Nevertheless  I  clung  to  my  revolver  as  to  my 
last  hope. 

I  began  to  edge  away  crab-wise  into  the  wood. 
Like  a  metronome  I  said  to  myself  over  and  over 
monotonously,  don't  run,  don't  run!  Dim  legends 
about  the  power  of  the  human  eye  floated  through 
my  brain.  But  how  quell  the  creature  with  my  eye 
when  I  could  not  see  it  ?  As  for  the  hopeless  expe- 
dient of  screaming,  I  hadn't  courage  for  it.  I  was 
silent,  as  I  would  fain  have  been  invisible.  Only  my 
dry  lips  kept  muttering  soundlessly,  don't  run,  don't 
run! 

I  did  not  run.  Instead,  I  stepped  on  a  smooth  sur- 
face of  rock  and  slid  downhill  like  a  human  tobog- 
gan until  I  fetched  up  against  a  dead  log.  I  discov- 
ered it  to  be  a  dead  log  after  a  confused  interval 
during  which  I  vaguely  believed  myself  to  have 
been  swallowed  by  an  alligator.  While  the  alligator 
illusion  endured  I  must  have  lain  comatose  and  im- 
movable. Indeed,  when  my  senses  began  to  come 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  105 

back  I  was  still  quite  inert.  I  experienced  that  cu- 
rious tranquillity  which  is  said  to  visit  those  who  are 
actually  within  the  jaws  of  death.  There  I  lay 
prone,  absolutely  at  the  mercy  of  the  mysterious 
white  prowler  of  the  forest — and  I  did  not  care. 
The  whole  petty  business  of  living  seemed  a  long 
way  behind  me  now. 

Languidly  at  last  I  opened  my  eyes.  Within  three 
yards  of  me,  in  the  open  rock-paved  glade  where  I 
had  fallen,  stood  the  Thing. 

As  softly  as  I  had  opened  my  eyes  I  shut  them. 
I  had  an  annoyed  conviction  that  they  were  deceiv- 
ing me — a  very  unworthy  thing  for  eyes  to  do  that 
were  soon  to  be  closed  in  death.  Again  I  lifted  my 
lids.  Yes,  there  it  was — only  now  it  had  put  an  ear 
back  and  was  sniffing  at  me  with  a  mingling  of  in- 
terest and  apprehension. 

The  strange  beast  of  the  jungle  was  a  white  bull- 
terrier. 

Abruptly  I  sat  up.  The  terrier  gave  a  startled 
sidewise  bound,  but  paused  again  and  stood  regard- 
ing me. 

"Here,  pup !  Here,  pup !  Nice,  nice  doggums !"  I 
said  in  soothing  accents. 

The  dog  gave  a  low  whine  and  stood  shivering, 


106  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

eager  but  afraid.  I  continued  my  blandishments. 
Little  by  little  the  forlorn  creature  drew  nearer,  un- 
til I  put  out  a  cautious  hand  and  stroked  his  ears. 
He  dodged  affrightedly,  but  presently  crept  back 
again.  Soon  his  head  was  against  my  knee,  and  he 
was  devouring  my  hand  with  avid  caresses.  Some 
time,  before  his  abandonment  on  the  island,  he  had 
been  a  well-brought-up  and  petted  animal.  Months 
or  years  of  wild  life  had  estranged  him  from  hu- 
manity, yet  at  the  human  touch  the  old  devotion 
woke  again. 

The  thing  now  was  to  lure  him  back  to  camp  and 
restore  him  to  the  happy  service  of  his  gods.  I  rose 
and  picked  up  my  pistol,  which  had  regained  my 
confidence  by  not  going  off  when  I  dropped  it.  With 
another  alluring,  "Here,  doggums!"  I  started  on 
my  way.  He  shrank,  trembled,  hesitated,  then  was 
after  me  with  a  bound.  So  we  went  on  through  the 
forest.  As  we  neared  the  camp  the  four-footed 
castaway's  diffidence  increased.  I  had  to  pet  and 
coax.  But  at  last  I  brought  him  triumphantly  across 
the  Rubicon  of  the  little  stream,  and  marched  him 
into  camp  under  the  astounded  eyes  of  Cookie. 

At  sight  of  the  negro  the  dog  growled  softly  and 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  107 

crouched  against  my  skirt.  Cookie  stood  like  an  ef- 
figy of  amazement  done  in  black  and  white. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd's  sake,  Miss  Jinny,"  he  burst  out 
at  last,  "am  dat  de  ghos'-pig?" 

"It  was,  Cookie,  but  I  changed  him  into  a  live 
dog  by  crossing  my  fingers.  Mind  your  rabbit's 
foot.  He  might  eat  it,  and  then  very  likely  we'd 
have  a  ghost  on  our  hands  again.  But  I  think  he'll 
stay  a  dog  for  the  present." 

"Yo'  go  'long,  Miss  Jinny,"  said  Cookie  valiantly. 
"Yo'  think  I  scared  of  any  ghos'  what  lower  hissel 
to  be  a  live  white  mong'ol  dog?  Yere,  yo'  ki-yi,  yo' 
bettah  mek  friends  with  ol'  Cookie,  'cause  he  got 
charge  o'  de  grub.  Yere's  a  li'le  fat  ma'ow  bone 
what  mebbe  come  off'n  yo'  own  grandchile,  but  yo' 
ain'  goin'  to  mind  dat  now  yo'  is  trans  formulated 
dis  yere  way."  And  evidently  the  reincarnated 
ghost-pig  did  not. 

With  the  midday  reunion  my  hour  of  distinction 
arrived.  The  tale  of  the  ghost-pig  was  told  from 
the  beginning  by  Cookie,  with  high  tributes  to  my 
courage  in  sallying  forth  in  pursuit  of  the  .phantom. 
Even  those  holding  other  views  of  the  genesis  of 
the  white  dog  were  amazed  at  his  presence  on  the 


108  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

island.  In  spite  of  Cookie's  aspersions,  the  creature 
was  no  mongrel,  but  a  thoroughbred  of  points.  Not 
by  any  means  a  dog  which  some  little  South  Amer- 
ican coaster  might  have  abandoned  here  when  it 
put  in  for  water.  The  most  reasonable  hypothesis 
seemed  to  be  that  he  had  belonged  to  the  copra  gath- 
erer, and  was  for  some  reason  left  behind  on  his 
master's  departure.  But  who  that  had  loved  a  dog 
enough  to  make  it  the  companion  of  his  solitude 
would  go  away  and  leave  it?  The  thing  seemed  to 
me  incredible.  Yet  here,  otherwise  unaccounted  for, 
was  the  corporeal  presence  of  the  dog. 

I  had  named  the  terrier  in  the  first  ten  minutes 
of  our  acquaintance.  Crusoe  was  the  designation 
by  which  he  was  presented  to  his  new  associates. 
It  was  good  to  see  how  swiftly  the  habits  of  civ- 
ilization returned  to  him.  Soon  he  was  getting  un- 
der foot  and  courting  caresses  as  eagerly  as  though 
all  his  life  he  had  lived  on  human  bounty,  instead 
of  bringing  down  his  own  game  in  royal  freedom. 
Yet  with  all  his  well-bred  geniality  there  was  no 
wandering  of  his  allegiance.  I  was  his  undisputed 
queen  and  lady  paramount. 

Crusoe,  then,  became  a  member  of  the  party  in 
good  and  regular  standing — much  more  so  than  his 


A  RABBIT'S  FOOT  109 

mistress.  Mr.  Tubbs  compared  him  not  unfavorably 
with  a  remarkable  animal  of  his  own,  for  which 
the  New  York  Kennel  Club  had  bidden  him  name 
his  own  price,  only  to  be  refused  with  scorn.  Violet 
tolerated  him,  Aunt  Jane  called  him  a  dear  weenty 
pettums  love,  Captain  Magnus  kicked  him  when  he 
thought  I  was  not  looking,  Cuthbert  Vane  chummed 
with  him  in  frankest  comradeship,  and  Mr.  Shaw 
softened  toward  him  to  an  extent  which  made  me 
inly  murmur,  Love  me,  love  my  dog — only  reversed. 
Not  that  I  in  tJie  least  wanted  to  be  loved,  only  you 
feel  it  an  impertinence  in  a  person  who  so  palpably 
does  not  love  you  to  endeavor  to  engage  the  affec- 
tions of  your  bull-terrier. 

As  to  Cookie,  he  magnanimously  consented  to 
overlook  Crusoe's  dubious  past  as  a  ghost-pig,  and 
fed  him  so  liberally  that  the  terrier's  lean  and  grace- 
ful form  threatened  to  assume  the  contours  of  a 
beer-keg. 


VIII 

AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM 

A  THE  only  person  who  had  yet  discovered 
anything  on  the  island,  I  was  now  invested 
with  a  certain  importance.  Also,  I  had  a  playfellow 
and  companion  for  future  walks,  in  lieu  of  Cuth- 
bert  Vane,  held  down  tight  to  the  thankless  toil  of 
treasure-hunting  by  his  stern  taskmaster.  But  at 
the  same  time  I  was  provided  with  an  annoying, 
because  unanswerable,  question  which  had  lodged 
at  the  back  of  my  mind  like  a  crumb  in  the  throat : 

By  what  strange  chance  had  the  copra  gatherer 
gone  away  and  left  Crusoe  on  the  island? 

Since  the  discovery  of  Crusoe  the  former  inhab- 
itant of  the  cabin  in  the  clearing  had  been  much  in 
my  thoughts.  I  had  been  dissatisfied  with  him  from 
the  beginning,  first,  because  he  was  not  a  pirate,  and 
also  because  he  had  left  behind  no  relic  more  fitting 
than  a  washtub.  Not  a  locket,  not  a  journal,  not  his 
own  wasted  form  stretched  upon  a  pallet — 

I  had  expressed  these  sentiments  to  Cuthbert 
110 


AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM     111 

Vane,  who  replied  that  in  view  of  the  washtub  it 
was  certain  that  the  hermit  of  the  island  had  not 
been  a  pirate,  as  he  understood  they  never  washed. 
I  said  neither  did  any  orthodox  hermit,  to  which 
Mr.  Vane  rejoined  that  he  probably  was  not  ortho- 
dox but  a  Dissenter.  He  said  Dissenters  were  so 
apt  to  be  peculiar,  don't  you  know? 

One  morning,  instead  of  starting  directly  after 
breakfast  for  the  cave,  Mr.  Shaw  busied  himself  in 
front  of  the  supply  tent  with  certain  explosives 
which  were  to  be  used  in  the  digging  operations 
later.  The  neighborhood  of  these  explosives  was  a 
great  trial  to  Aunt  Jane,  who  was  constantly  ex- 
pecting them  to  go  off.  I  rather  expected  it  too,  and 
used  to  shudder  at  the  thought  that  if  we  all  went 
soaring  heavenward  together  we  might  come  down 
inextricably  mixed.  Then  when  the  Rufus  Smith 
returned  and  they  tried  to  sort  us  out  before  inter- 
ment, I  might  have  portions  of  Violet,  for  instance, 
attributed  to  me.  In  that  case  I  felt  that,  like  Bill 
Halliwell,  I  should  walk. 

Having  inquired  of  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  and 
found  that  for  .an  hour  or  two  the  boat  would  not 
be  in  requisition,  I  permitted  the  beautiful  youth  to 
understand  that  I  would  not  decline  an  invitation 


112  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

to  be  rowed  about  the  cove.  Mr.  Shaw  had  left  his 
marine  glasses  lying  about,  and  I  had  been  doing 
some  exploring  with  them.  Under  the  great  cliffs 
on  the  north  shore  of  the  bay  I  had  seen  an  object 
that  excited  my  curiosity.  It  seemed  to  be  the  hull 
of  a  small  vessel,  lying  on  the  narrow  strip  of  rocks 
and  sand  under  the  cliff.  Now  wreckage  anywhere 
fills  me  with  sad  and  romantic  thoughts,  but  on  the 
shore  of  a  desolate  island  even  a  barrel-hoop  seems 
to  suffer  a  sea-change  into  something  rich  and 
strange.  I  therefore  commanded  the  b.  y.  to  row 
me  over  to  the  spot  where  the  derelict  lay. 

I  lay  back  idly  in  the  stern  as  the  boat  skimmed 
over  the  smooth  water  beneath  the  strokes  of  my 
splendid  oarsman.  More  than  ever  he  looked  like 
the  island  god.  Every  day  he  grew  more  brown  and 
brawny,  more  superb  in  his  physical  vigor.  But  his 
hands,  once  so  beautiful,  were  getting  rough  and 
hard  with  toil.  There  was  a  great  raw  bruise  on  his 
arm.  I  exclaimed  pityingly. 

"Oh,  it's  nothing.  We  get  knocked  about  a  bit 
by  the  sea  in  the  cave  now  and  then." 

"You  mean  you  are  risking  your  lives  every  day 
for  the  sake  of  this  legendary  treasure  that  you  have 
no  reasonable  reason  to  suppose  is  there." 


AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM     113 

"Perhaps  not,"  he  admitted,  "but  then  it's  such 
good  fun  looking,  you  know." 

"That's  according  to  one's  idea  of  fun,"  I  said 
ironically. 

"Oh,  well,  a  chap  can't  spend  his  days  on  flowery 
beds  of  ease,  of  course.  Really,  I  find  this  story- 
book kind  of  thing  we're  doing  is  warm  stuff,  as  you 
Americans  say.  And  then  there's  Shaw — think  of 
the  difference  it  will  make  to  the  dear  old  chap  if 
we  find  the  gold — buy  a  ship  of  his  own  and  snap 
his  fingers  at  the  P.  &  O." 

"And  you'll  go  along  as  cabin-boy  or  something?" 

"  'Fraid  not,"  he  said  quite  simply.  "A  chap  has 
his  bit  to  do  at  home,  you  know." 

The  cliffs  on  the  north  shore  of  the  cove  were 
considerably  higher  than  on  the  other  side.  The 
wreck  lay  close  in,  driven  high  upon  the  narrow 
shelf  of  rocks  and  sand  at  the  base  of  the  sheer  as- 
cent. Sand  had  heaped  up  around  her  hull  and  flung 
itself  across  her  deck  like  a  white  winding-sheet. 
Surprisingly,  the  vessel  was  a  very  small  one,  a  little 
sloop,  indeed,  much  like  the  fragile  pleasure-boats 
that  cluster  under  the  Sausalito  shore  at  home.  The 
single  mast  had  been  broken  off  short,  and  the 
stump  of  the  bowsprit  was  visible,  like  a  finger  beck- 


114  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

oning  for  rescue  from  the  crawling  sand.  She  was 
embedded  most  deeply  at  the  stern,  and  forward  of 
the  sand-heaped  cockpit  the  roof  of  the  small  cabin 
was  still  clear. 

"Poor  forlorn  little  boat!"  I  said.  "What  in  the 
world  do  you  suppose  brought  such  a  mite  of  a  thing 
to  this  unheard-of  spot?" 

"Perhaps  she  belonged  to  the  copra  chap.  One 
man  could  handle  her." 

"What  would  he  want  with  her?  A  small  boat 
like  this  is  better  for  fishing  and  rowing  about  the 
cove." 

"Perhaps  she  brought  him  here  from  Panama, 
though  he  couldn't  have  counted  on  taking  back  a 
very  bulky  cargo." 

"Then  why  leave  her  strewn  about  on  the  rocks  ? 
And  besides" — here  the  puzzle  of  Crusoe  recurred 
to  me  and  seemed  to  link  itself  with  this — "then 
how  did  he  get  away  himself?" 

But  my  oarsman  was  much  more  at  home  on  the 
solid  ground  of  fact  than  on  the  uncharted  waters 
of  the  hypothetical. 

"Don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  he  returned  uninterest- 
edly.  Evidently  the  hermit  had  got  away,  so  why 
concern  one's  self  about  the  method?  I  am  sure  the 


AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM     115 

Light  Brigade  must  have  been  made  up  of  Cuth- 
bert  Vanes.  "Theirs  not  to  reason  why,  theirs  but 
to  do  or  die — " 

We  rowed  in  close  under  the  port  bow  of  the 
sloop,  and  on  the  rail  I  made  out  a  string  of  faded 
letters.  I  began  excitedly  to  spell  them  out. 

"I — s — 1 — oh,  Island  Queen!  You  see  she  did 
belong  here.  Probably  she  brought  the  original  por- 
cine Adam  and  Eve  to  the  island." 

"Luckily  forgot  the  snake,  though!"  remarked 
the  Honorable  Bertie  with  unlooked-for  vivacity. 
For  so  far  Aunt  Jane's  trembling  anticipations  had 
been  unfulfilled  by  the  sight  of  a  single  snake,  a 
fact  laid  by  me  to  the  credit  of  St.  Patrick  and  by 
Cookie  to  that  of  the  pigs. 

"Snakes  'd  jes'  be  oysters  on  de  half  shell  to  dem 
pigs,"  declared  Cookie. 

As  we  rowed  away  from  the  melancholy  little 
derelict  I  saw  that  near  by  a  narrow  gully  gave  ac- 
cess to  the  top  of  the  cliff,  and  I  resolved  that  I 
would  avail  myself  of  this  path  to  visit  the  Island 
Queen  again.  My  mind  continued  to  dwell  upon 
the  unknown  figure  of  the  copra  gatherer.  Perhaps 
the  loss  of  his  sloop  had  condemned  him  to  weary 
months  or  years  of  solitude  upon  the  island,  before 


116  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  rare  glimmer  of  a  sail  or  the  trail  of  a  steamer's 
smoke  upon  the  horizon  gladdened  his  longing  eyes. 
Hadn't  he  grown  very  tired  of  pork,  and  didn't  his 
soul  to  this  day  revolt  at  a  ham  sandwich?  What 
would  he  say  if  he  ever  discovered  that  he  might 
have  brought  away  a  harvest  of  gold  instead  of 
copra  from  the  island?  Last  but  not  least,  did  not 
his  heart  and  conscience,  if  he  by  chance  possessed 
them,  ache  horribly  at  the  thought  of  the  forsaken 
Crusoe? 

Suddenly  I  turned  to  Cuthbert  Vane. 

"How  do  you  know,  really,  that  he  ever  did  leave 
the  island?"  I  demanded. 

"Who — the  copra  chap?  Well,  why  else  was  the 
cabin  cleared  out  so  carefully — no  clothes  left  about 
or  anything?" 

"That's  true,"  I  acknowledged.  The  last  occupant 
of  the  hut  had  evidently  made  a  very  deliberate  and 
orderly  business  of  packing  up  to  go. 

We  drifted  about  the  cove  for  a  while,  then 
steered  into  the  dim  murmuring  shadow  of  the 
treasure-cavern.  It  was  filled  with  dark-green,  lisp- 
ing water,  and  a  continual  resonant  whispering  in 
which  you  seemed  to  catch  half- framed  words,  and 
the  low  ripple  of  laughter.  Mr.  Vane  indicated  the 


AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM     117 

point  at  which  they  had  arrived  in  their  exploration 
among  the  fissures  opening  from  the  ledge. 

The  place  held  me  with  its  fascination,  but  we 
dared  not  linger  long,  for  as  the  tide  turned  one  man 
would  have  much  ado  to  manage  the  boat.  So  we 
slid  through  the  archway  into  the  bright  sunshine  of 
the  cove,  and  headed  for  the  camp. 

As  we  neared  the  beach  we  saw  a  figure  pacing  it. 
I  knew  that  free  stride.  It  was  Dugald  Shaw.  And 
quite  unexpectedly  my  heart  began  to  beat  with  stac- 
cato quickness.  Dugald  Shaw,  who  didn't  like  me 
and  never  looked  at  me — except  just  sometimes, 
when  he  was  perfectly  sure  I  didn't  know  it.  Du- 
gald Shaw,  the  silent,  unboastful  man  who  had 
striven  and  starved  and  frozen  on  the  dreadful 
southern  ice-fields,  who  had  shared  the  Viking  deeds 
of  the  heroes — whom  just  to  think  of  warmed  my 
heart  with  a  safe,  cuddled,  little-girl  feeling  that  I 
had  never  known  since  I  was  a  child  on  my  father's 
knee.  There  he  was,  waiting  for  us,  and  splashing 
into  the  foam  to  help  Cuthbert  beach  the  boat — he 
for  whom  a  thousand  years  ago  the  skalds  would 
have  made  a  saga — 

The  b.  y.  hailed  him  cheerfully  as  we  sprang  out 
upon  the  sand.  But  the  Scotchman  was  unsmiling. 


118  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"Make  haste  after  your  tools,  lad,"  he  ordered. 
"We'll  have  fine  work  now  to  get  inside  the  cave  be- 
fore the  turn." 

Those  were  his  words ;  his  tone  and  his  grim  look 
meant,  So  in  spite  of  all  my  care  you  are  being  be- 
guiled by  a  minx — 

It  was  his  tone  that  I  answered. 

"Oh,  don't  scold  Mr.  Vane !"  I  implored.  "Every 
paradise  has  its  serpent,  and  as  there  are  no  others 
here  I  suppose  I  am  it.  Of  course  all  lady  serpents 
who  know  their  business  have  red  hair.  Don't  blame 
Mr.  Vane  for  what  was  naturally  all  my  fault." 

Not  a  line  of  his  face  changed.  Indeed,  before 
my  most  vicious  stabs  it  never  did  change.  Though 
of  course  it  would  have  been  much  more  civil  of  him, 
and  far  less  maddening,  to  show  himself  a  little  bit 
annoyed. 

"To  be  sure  it  seems  unreasonable  to  blame  the 
lad,"  he  agreed  soberly,  "but  then  he  happens  to  be 
under  my  authority." 

"Meaning,  I  suppose,  that  you  would  much  pre- 
fer to  blame  me"  I  choked. 

"There's  logic,  no  doubt,  in  striking  at  the  root  of 
the  trouble,"  he  admitted,  with  an  air  of  calm  de- 
tachment. 


AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM     119 

"Then  strike,"  I  said  furiously,  "strike,  why  don't 
you,  and  not  beat  about  the  bush  so !"  Because  then 
he  would  be  quite  hopelessly  in  the  wrong,  and  I 
could  adopt  any  of  several  roles — the  coldly  haughty, 
the  wounded  but  forgiving,  etc.,  with  great  enjoy- 
ment. 

But  without  a  change  in  his  glacial  manner  he 
quite  casually  remarked : 

"It  would  seem  I  had  struck — home." 

I  walked  away  wishing  the  dynamite  would  go  off, 
even  if  I  had  to  be  mixed  with  Violet  till  the  last 
trump. 

Fortunately  nobody  undertook  to  exercise  any 
guardianship  over  Crusoe,  and  the  little  white  dog 
bore  me  faithful  company  in  my  rambles.  Mostly 
these  were  confined  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  cove. 
I  never  ventured  beyond  Lookout  ridge,  but  there 
I  went  often  with  Crusoe,  and  we  would  sit  upon  a 
rock  and  talk  to  each  other  about  our  first  encounter 
there,  and  the  fright  he  had  given  me.  Everybody 
else  had  gone,  gazed  and  admired.  But  the  only 
constant  pilgrim,  besides  myself,  was,  of  all  people, 
Captain  Magnus.  Soon  between  us  we  had  worn  a 
path  through  the  woods  to  the  top  of  the  ridge.  The 
captain's  unexpected  ardor  for  scenery  carried  him 


120  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

thither  whenever  he  had  half  an  hour  to  spare  from 
the  work  in  the  cave.  Needless  to  say,  Crusoe  and 
I  timed  our  visits  so  as  not  to  conflict  with  his.  A 
less  discreet  beast  than  Crusoe  would  long  ere  this 
have  sampled  the  captain's  calves,  for  the  sailor 
missed  no  sly  chance  to  exasperate  the  animal.  But 
the  wise  dog  contented  himself  with  such  manifesta- 
tions as  a  lifted  lip  and  twitching  ears,  for  he  had 
his  own  code  of  behavior,  and  was  not  to  be  goaded 
into  departing  from  it. 

One  day,  as  Crusoe  and  I  came  down  from  the 
ridge,  we  met  Captain  Magnus  ascending.  I  had  in 
my  hand  a  small  metal-backed  mirror,  which  I  had 
found,  surprisingly,  lying  in  a  mossy  cleft  between 
the  rocks.  It  was  a  thing  such  as  a  man  might  carry 
in  his  pocket,  though  on  the  island  it  seemed  un- 
likely that  any  one  would  do  so.  I  at  once  attributed 
the  mirror  to  Captain  Magnus,  for  I  knew  that  no 
one  else  had  been  to  the  ridge  for  days.  I  was  won- 
dering as  I  walked  along  whether  by  some  sublime 
law  of  compensation  the  captain  really  thought  him- 
self beautiful,  and  sought  this  retired  spot  to  admire 
not  the  view  but  his  own  physiognomy. 

When  the  captain  saw  me  he  stopped  full  in  the 
path.  There  was  a  growth  of  fern  on  either  side. 


"What's  your  hurry,"  he  asked. 


AN  EXCURSION  AND  AN  ALARM     121 

I  approached  slowly,  and,  as  he  did  not  move, 
paused,  and  held  out  the  mirror. 

"I  think  you  must  have  dropped  this,  Captain 
Magnus.  I  found  it  on  the  rocks." 

For  an  instant  his  face  changed.  His  evasive  eyes 
were  turned  to  me  searchingly  and  sharply.  He  took 
the  glass  from  my  hand  and  slipped  it  into  his 
pocket.  I  made  a  movement  to  pass  on,  then 
stopped,  with  a  faint  dawning  of  discomfort.  For 
the  heavy  figure  of  the  captain  still  blocked  the  path. 

A  dark  flush  had  come  into  the  man's  face.  His 
yellow  teeth  showed  between  his  parted  lips.  His 
eyes  had  a  swimming  brightness. 

"What's  your  hurry?"  he  remarked,  with  a  cer- 
tain insinuating  emphasis. 

I  began  to  tremble. 

"I  am  on  my  way  back  to  camp,  Captain  Magnus. 
Please  let  me  pass." 

"It  won't  do  no  harm  if  you're  a  little  late.  There 
ain't  no  one  there  keepin'  tab.  Ain't  you  always 
a-strayin'  off  with  the  Honorable?  I  ain't  so  pretty, 
but—" 

"You  are  impertinent.    Let  me  pass." 

"Oh,  I'm  impert'nent,  am  I  ?  That  means  fresh, 
maybe.  I'm  a  plain  man  and  don't  use  frills  on  my 


122  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

langwidge.  Well,  when  I  meets  a  little  skirt  that 
takes  my  eyes  there  ain't  no  harm  in  lettin'  her  know 
it,  is  there?  Maybe  the  Honorable  could  say  it 
nicer — " 

With  a  forward  stride  he  laid  a  hand  upon  my 
arm.  I  shook  him  off  and  stepped  back.  Fear 
clutched  my  throat.  I  had  left  my  revolver  in  my 
quarters.  Oh,  the  dreadful  denseness  of  these 
woods,  the  certainty  that  no  wildest  cry  of  mine 
could  pierce  them ! 

And  then  Crusoe,  who  had  been  waiting  quietly 
behind  me  in  the  path,  slipped  in  between  us.  Every 
hair  on  his  neck  was  bristling.  The  lifted  upper  lip 
snarled  unmistakably.  He  gave  me  a  swift  glance 
which  said,  Shall  I  spring ? 

Quite  suddenly  the  gorilla  blandishments  of  Cap- 
tain Magnus  came  to  an  end. 

"Say,"  he  said  harshly,  "hold  back  that  dog,  will 
you  ?  I  don't  want  to  kill  the  cur." 

"You  had  better  not,"  I  returned  coldly.  "I 
should  have  to  explain  how  it  happened,  you  know. 
As  it  is  I  shall  say  nothing.  But  I  shall  not  forget 
my  revolver  again  when  I  go  to  walk." 

And  Crusoe  and  I  went  swiftly  down  the  path 
which  the  captain  no  longer  disputed. 


IX 


TWO  or  three  days  later  occurred  a  painful 
episode.  The  small  unsuspected  germ  of  it 
had  lain  ambushed  in  a  discourse  of  Mr.  Shaw's,  de- 
livered shortly  after  our  arrival  on  the  island,  on 
the  multifarious  uses  of  the  cocoa-palm.  He  told 
how  the  juice  from  the  unexpanded  flower-spathes 
is  drawn  off  to  form  a  potent  toddy,  so  that  where 
every  prospect  pleases  man  may  still  be  vile.  Cookie, 
experimentally  disposed,  set  to  work.  Mr.  Vane, 
also  experimentally,  sampled  the  results  of  Cookie's 
efforts.  The  liquor  had  merely  been  allowed  to  fer- 
ment, whereas  a  complicated  process  is  necessary  for 
the  manufacture  of  the  true  arrack,  but  enough  had 
been  achieved  to  bring  about  dire  consequences  for 
Cuthbert  Vane,  who  had  found  the  liquid  cool  and 
refreshing,  and  was  skeptical  about  its  potency. 

Aunt  Jane  took  the  matter  very  hard,  and  re- 
buked the  ribald  mirth  of  Mr.  Tubbs.    He  had  to 
123 


124  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

shed  tears  over  a  devastating  poem  called  "The 
Drunkard's  Home,"  before  she  would  forgive  him. 
Cookie  made  his  peace  by  engaging  to  vote  the  pro- 
hibition ticket  at  the  next  election.  My  own  excuses 
for  the  unfortunate  were  taken  in  very  ill  part.  My 
aunt  said  she  had  always  understood  that  life  in  the 
tropics  was  very  relaxing  to  the  moral  fiber,  and 
mine  was  certainly  affected — and  besides  she  wasn't 
certain  that  barons  wore  coronets  anyhow. 

Mr.  Shaw  was  disturbed  over  Cuthbert,  who  was 
not  at  all  bad,  only  queer  and  sleepy,  and  had  to  be 
led  away  to  slumber  in  retirement.  Also,  it  was  an 
exceptionally  low  tide  and  Mr.  Shaw  had  counted 
on  taking  advantage  of  it  to  work  in  the  cave.  Now 
Cuthbert  was  laid  up — 

"You  and  I  will  have  to  manage  by  ourselves, 
Magnus." 

"Nothing  doing — boat  got  to  be  patched  up — go 
out  there  without  it  and  get  caught !"  growled  the 
captain. 

"Well,  lend  a  hand,  then.  We  can  be  ready  with 
the  boat  inside  an  hour." 

The  captain  hesitated  queerly.  His  wandering 
eyes  seemed  to  be  searching  in  every  quarter  for 
something  they  did  not  find.  At  last  he  mumbled 


"LASSIE,  LASSIE   .    .    ."  125 

that  he  thought  he  felt  a  touch  of  the  sun,  and  had 
decided  to  lay  off  for  the  afternoon  and  make  his 
way  across  the  island.  He  said  he  wanted  to  shoot 
water- fowl  and  that  they  had  all  been  frightened 
away  from  the  cove,  but  that  with  the  glass  he  had 
seen  them  from  Lookout  thickly  about  the  other  bay. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Scotchman  coldly.  "I  sup- 
pose you  must  suit  yourself.  I  can  get  the  boat  in 
shape  without  help,  I  dare  say."  I  saw  him  pres- 
ently looking  in  an  annoyed  and  puzzled  fashion 
after  the  vanishing  figure  of  the  sailor. 

Mr.  Tubbs  and  the  umbrellas  soon  disappeared 
into  the  woods.  I  believe  the  search  for  Bill  Halli- 
well's  tombstone  was  no  longer  very  actively  pur- 
sued, and  that  the  trio  spent  their  time  ensconced 
in  a  snug  little  nook  with  hammocks  and  cushions, 
where  Mr.  Tubbs  beguiled  the  time  with  reading 
aloud — Aunt  Jane  and  Violet  both  being  provided 
with  literature — and  relating  anecdotes  of  his  rise 
to  greatness  in  the  financial  centers  of  the  country.  I 
more  than  suspected  Mr.  Tubbs  of  feeling  that  such 
a  bird  in  the  hand  as  Aunt  Jane  was  worth  many 
doubloons  in  the  bush.  But  in  spite  of  uneasiness 
about  the  future,  for  the  present  I  rested  secure  in 
the  certainty  that  they  could  not  elope  from  the 


126  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

island,  and  that  there  was  no  one  on  it  with  authority 
to  metamorphose  Aunt  Jane  into  Mrs.  Hamilton  H. 
Tubbs. 

The  waters  of  the  cove  had  receded  until  a  fringe 
of  rocks  under  the  high  land  of  the  point,  usually 
covered,  had  been  left  bare.  I  had  watched  the 
emergence  of  their  black  jagged  surfaces  for  some 
time  before  it  occurred  to  me  that  they  offered  a 
means  of  access  to  the  cave.  The  cave  —  place  of 
fascination  and  mystery!  Here  was  the  opportu- 
nity of  all  others  to  explore  it,  unhampered  by  any 
one,  just  Crusoe  and  I  alone,  in  the  fashion  that  left 
me  freest  to  indulge  my  dreams. 

I  waited  until  the  Scotchman's  back  was  safely 
turned,  because  if  he  saw  me  setting  forth  on  this 
excursion  he  was  quite  certain  to  command  me  to 
return,  and  I  had  no  intention  of  submitting  to  his 
dictatorial  ways  and  yet  was  not  sure  how  I  was  suc- 
cessfully to  defy  him.  I  believed  him  capable  of 
haling  me  back  by  force,  while  tears  or  even  swoons 
left  him  unmoved.  Of  course  he  would  take  the  ab- 
surd ground  that  the  cave  was  dangerous,  in  the  face 
of  the  glaring  fact  that  a  girl  who  had  come  to  this 
island  solely  to  protect  Aunt  Jane  ought  certainly  to 


"LASSIE,  LASSIE    .    .    ."  127 

be  able  to  protect  herself.  Besides,  what  right  had 
he  to  care  if  I  was  drowned,  anyhow  ? 

But  of  course  I  was  not  going  to  be. 

The  retreating  tide  had  left  deep  pools  behind, 
each  a  little  cosmos  of  fairy  seaweeds  and  tiny  scut- 
tling crabs  and  rich  and  wonderful  forms  of  life 
which  were  strange  to  me.  Crusoe  and  I  were  very 
much  interested,  and  lingered  a  good  deal  on  the 
way.  But  at  last  we  reached  the  great  archway,  and 
passed  with  a  suddenness  which  was  like  a  plunge 
into  cool  water  from  the  hot  glare  of  the  tropic  sun- 
shine into  the  green  shadow  of  the  cavern. 

At  the  lower  end,  between  the  two  arches,  a  black, 
water-worn  rock  paving  rang  under  one's  feet.  Fur- 
ther in  under  the  point  the  floor  of  the  cave  was  cov- 
ered with  white  sand.  All  the  great  shadowy  place 
was  murmuring  like  a  vast  sea-shell.  Beyond  the 
southern  archway  spread  the  limitless  heaving  plain 
of  the  Pacific.  Near  at  hand  bare  black  rocks  rose 
from  the  surges,  like  skeletons  of  the  land  that  the 
sea  had  devoured.  And  after  a  while  these  walls 
that  supported  the  cavern  roof  would  be  nibbled 
away,  and  the  roof  would  fall,  and  the  waves  roar 
victorious  over  the  ruins. 


128  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

'  1  wished  I  could  visit  the  place  in  darkness.  It 
would  be  thrice  as  mysterious,  filled  with  its  hollow 
whispering  echoes,  as  in  the  day.  I  dreamed  of  it  as 
it  might  have  been  when  a  boat  from  the  Bonny 
Lass  crept  in,  and  the  faint  winking  eye  of  a  lan- 
tern struck  a  gleam  from  the  dark  waters  and 
showed  nothing  all  around  but  blackness,  and  more 
blackness. 

From  the  ledge  far  above  my  head  led  off  those 
narrow,  teasing  crevices  in  which  the  three  ex- 
plorers did  their  unrewarded  burrowing.  I  could  see 
the  strands  of  a  rope  ladder  lying  coiled  at  the  edge 
of  the  shelf,  where  it  was  secured  by  spikes.  The 
men  dragged  down  the  ladder  with  a  boat-hook 
when  they  wanted  to  ascend.  I  looked  about  with  a 
hope  that  perhaps  they  had  left  the  boat-hook  some- 
where. 

I  found  no  boat-hook  but  instead  a  spade,  which 
had  been  driven  deep  into  the  sand  and  left,  too 
firmly  imbedded  for  the  tide  to  bear  away.  At  once 
a  burning  hope  that  I,  alone  and  unassisted,  might 
bring  to  light  the  treasure  of  the  Bonny  Lass  seethed 
in  my  veins.  I  jerked  the  spade  loose  and  fell  to. 

I  now  discovered  the  great  truth  that  digging  for 
treasure  is  the  most  thrilling  and  absorbing  occupa- 


"LASSIE,  LASSIE   .    .    ."  129 

tion  known  to  man.  Time  ceased  to  be,  and  the 
weight  of  the  damp  and  close-packed  sand  seemed 
that  of  feathers.  This  temporary  state  of  exaltation 
passed,  to  be  sure,  and  the  sand  got  very  heavy,  and 
my  back  ached,  but  still  I  dug.  Crusoe  watched  pro- 
ceedings interestedly  at  first,  then  wandered  off  on 
business  of  his  own.  Presently  he  returned  and  be- 
gan to  fuss  about  and  bark.  He  was  a  restless  little 
beast,  wanting  to  be  always  on  the  move.  He  came 
and  tugged  at  my  skirt,  uttering  an  uneasy  whine. 

"Be  quiet,  Crusoe!"  I  commanded,  threatening 
him  with  my  spade.  The  madness  of  the  treasure- 
lust  possessed  me.  I  was  panting  now,  and  my 
hands  began  to  feel  like  baseball  mitts,  but  still  I 
dug.  Crusoe  had  ceased  to  importune  me;  vaguely 
I  was  aware  that  he  had  got  tired  and  run  off.  I 
toiled  on,  pausing  now  and  then  for  breath.  I  was 
leaning  on  my  spade,  rather  dejectedly  considering 
the  modest  excavation  I  had  achieved,  when  I  felt 
a  little  cool  splash  at  my  feet.  Dropping  my  spade 
I  whirled  around — and  a  shriek  echoed  through  the 
cave  as  I  saw  pouring  into  it  the  dark  insidious  tor- 
rent of  the  returning  tide. 

How  had  I  forgotten  it,  that  deadly  thing,  mut- 
tering to  itself  out  there,  ready  to  spring  back  like 


130  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

an  unleashed  beast?  Crusoe  had  warned  me — and 
then  he  had  forsaken  me,  and  I  was  alone. 

And  yet  at  first,  wild  as  my  terror  was,  I  had  no 
thought  but  that  somehow  I  could  escape.  That 
these  waters  were  for  me  the  very  face  of  death, 
sure  and  relentless,  terrible  and  slow,  did  not  at  once 
seize  hold  upon  my  heart. 

Frantically  I  sprang  for  the  entrance  on  the  cove. 
The  floor  of  the  cave  was  sloping,  and  the  water 
deepened  swiftly  as  I  advanced.  Soon  I  was  floun- 
dering to  my  knees,  and  on  the  instant  a  great  wave 
rushed  in,  drenching  me  to  the  waist,  dazing  me 
with  its  spray  and  uproar,  and  driving  me  back  to 
the  far  end  of  the  cave. 

With  a  dreadful  hollow  sucking  sound  the  surge 
retreated.  I  staggered  again  toward  the  archway 
that  was  my  only  door  to  life.  The  water  was 
deeper  now,  and  swiftly  came  another  fierce  inrush 
of  the  sea  that  drove  me  back.  Between  the  two 
archways  a  terrible  current  was  setting.  It  poured 
along  with  the  rush  of  a  mountain  river,  wild,  dark, 
tumultuous. 

I  had  fled  to  the  far  end  of  the  cave,  but  the  sea 
pursued  me.  Swiftly  the  water  climbed — it  flung 


"LASSIE,  LASSIE   .    .    ."  131 

me  against  the  wall,  then  dragged  me  back.  I 
clutched  at  the  naked  rock  with  bleeding  fingers. 

Again,  after  a  paroxysm  during  which  I  had 
seemed  to  stand  a  great  way  off  and  listen  to  my  own 
shrieks,  there  came  to  me  a  moment  of  calm.  I  knew 
that  my  one  tenuous  thread  of  hope  lay  in  launch- 
ing myself  into  that  wild  flood  that  was  tearing 
through  into  the  cove.  I  was  not  a  strong  swimmer, 
but  a  buoyant  one.  I  might  find  refuge  on  some 
half -submerged  rock  on  the  shores  of  the  cove — at 
least  I  should  perish  in  the  open,  in  the  sunlight,  not 
trapped  like  a  desperate  rat.  And  I  began  to  fight 
my  way  toward  the  opening. 

And  then  a  dreadful  vision  flashed  across  my 
mind,  weighed  down  my  feet  like  lead,  choked  back 
even  the  cry  from  my  frozen  lips.  Sharks !  The 
black  cutting  fin,  the  livid  belly,  the  dreadful  jaws 
opening — no,  no,  better  to  die  here,  better  the  clean 
embrace  of  the  waters — if  indeed  the  sharks  did  not 
come  into  the  cave. 

And  then  I  think  I  went  quite  mad.  I  remember 
trying  to  climb  up  to  the  ledge  which  hung  beetling 
fifteen  feet  above.  Afterward  my  poor  hands 
showed  how  desperately.  And  I  remember  that  once 


132  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

I  slipped  and  went  clear  under,  and  how  I  choked 
and  strangled  in  the  salt  water.  For  my  mouth  was 
always  open,  screaming,  screaming  continually. 

And  when  I  saw  the  boat  fighting  its  way  inch  by 
inch  into  the  cave  I  was  sure  that  it  was  a  vision, 
and  that  only  my  own  wild  beseeching  of  him  to 
save  me  had  made  the  face  of  Dugald  Shaw  arise 
before  my  dying  eyes.  Dugald  Shaw  was  still  mend- 
ing the  boat  on  the  shore  of  the  cove,  and  this  was 
a  mocking  phantom. 

Only  the  warm  human  clasp  of  the  arms  that  drew 
me  into  the  boat  made  me  believe  in  him. 

The  boat  bobbed  quietly  in  the  eddy  at  the  far  end 
of  the  cave,  while  a  wet,  sobbing,  choking  heap  clung 
to  Dugald  Shaw.  I  clasped  him  about  the  neck  and 
would  not  let  him  go,  for  fear  that  I  should  find  my- 
self alone  again,  perishing  in  the  dark  water.  My 
head  was  on  his  breast,  and  he  was  pressing  back 
my  wet  hair  with  strong  and  tender  hands. 

What  was  this  he  was  saying?  "My  lassie,  my 
little,  little  lassie !" 

And  no  less  incredible  than  this  it  was  to  feel  his 
cheek  pressed,  very  gently,  against  my  hair — 

After  a  little  my  self-control  came  back  to  me.  I 
stopped  my  senseless  childish  crying,  lifted  my  head 


"LASSIE,  LASSIE    .    .    ."  133 

and  tried  to  speak.  I  could  only  whisper,  "You 
came,  you  came!" 

"Of  course  I  came!"  he  said  huskily.  "There, 
don't  tremble  so — you  are  safe — safe  in  my  arms !" 

After  a  while  he  lifted  me  into  the  stern  and  be- 
gan to  maneuver  the  boat  out  of  the  cave.  I  sup- 
pose at  another  time  I  should  have  realized  the  peril 
of  it.  The  fierce  flow  through  the  archway  all  but 
swamped  us,  the  current  threatened  to  hurl  us 
against  the  rocks,  but  I  felt  no  fear.  He  had  come 
to  save  me,  and  he  would.  All  at  once  the  dreadful 
shadow  of  the  cavern  was  left  behind,  and  the  sun- 
shine immersed  my  chilled  body  like  a  draught  of 
wine.  I  lay  huddled  in  the  stern,  my  cheek  upon  my 
hand,  as  he  rowed  swiftly  across  the  cove  and  drove 
the  boat  upon  the  beach. 

Everybody  but  Captain  Magnus  was  assembled 
there,  including  Crusoe.  Crusoe  it  was  who  had 
given  warning  of  my  danger.  Like  a  wise  little  dog, 
when  I  ignored  his  admonitions  he  had  run  home. 
At  first  his  uneasiness  and  troubled  barking  had  got 
no  notice.  Once  or  twice  the  Scotchman,  worried 
by  his  fret  fulness,  had  ordered  him  away.  Then 
across  his  preoccupied  mind  there  flashed  a  doubt. 
He  laid  down  his  tools  and  spoke  to  the  animal.  In- 


134  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

stantly  Crusoe  dashed  for  the  rocks,  barking  and 
crying  with  eagerness.  But  the  path  was  closed,  the 
tide  was  hurrying  in,  and  Crusoe  whined  pitiably  as 
he  crept  back  and  crouched  against  the  man  who  of 
course  knew  better  than  a  little  dog  what  must  be 
done. 

Then  Mr.  Shaw  understood.  He  snatched  the 
painter  of  the  boat  and  dragged  it  down  the  beach. 
He  was  shoving  off  as  Cookie,  roused  by  Crusoe's 
barking,  appeared  from  the  seclusion  of  his  after- 
noon siesta.  To  him  were  borne  the  Scotchman's 
parting  words : 

"Virginia  Harding — in  the  cave — hot  blankets — 
may  be  drowning — " 

"And  at  dat,"  said  Cookie,  relating  his  part  in  the 
near-tragedy  with  unction,  "I  jes'  natchully  plumped 
right  down  on  mah  ma'ah  bones  and  wrestled  with 
de  Lawd  in  prayah." 

This  unique  proceeding  on  Cookie's  part  neces- 
sarily awoke  the  interest  both  of  the  recovered 
Cuthbert  Vane,  just  emerging  after  his  prolonged 
slumbers,  and  of  the  trio  who  had  that  moment  re- 
turned from  the  woods.  Importuned  for  an  explana- 
tion, Cookie  arose  from  his'  devotional  posture  and 
put  the  portentous  query: 


"LASSIE,  LASSIE   .   .   ."  135 

"Mistah  Vane,  sah,  be  dey  any  propah  coffin-wocxl 
on  dis  yere  island?" 

Instantly  connecting  my  absence  with  this  terrible 
question,  Aunt  Jane  shrieked  and  fell  into  the  arms 
of  Mr.  Tubbs.  I  got  the  story  from  Cuthbert  Vane, 
and  I  must  say  I  was  unpleasantly  struck  by  the  fa- 
cility with  which  my  aunt  seemed  to  have  fallen  into 
Mr.  Tubbs's  embrace — as  if  with  the  ease  of  habit. 
Mr.  Tubbs,  it  appeared,  had  staggered  a  little  under 
his  fair  burden,  which  was  not  to  be  wondered  at, 
for  Aunt  Jane  is  of  an  overflowing  style  of  figure 
and  Mr.  Tubbs  more  remarkable  for  brain  than 
brawn.  Violet,  however,  had  remained  admirably 
calm,  and  exhorted  Aunt  Jane  to  remember  that 
whatever  happened  it  was  all  for  the  best. 

"Poor  Violet,"  I  commented.  "To  think  that  after 
all  it  didn't  happen !" 

A  slow  flush  rose  to  the  cheeks  of  the  beautiful 
youth.  He  was  sitting  beside  the  hammock,  where 
I  was  supposed  to  be  recuperating.  Of  course  it 
was  to  please  Aunt  Jane  that  I  had  to  be  an  invalid, 
and  she  had  insisted  on  mounting  guard  and  read- 
ing aloud  from  one  of  Miss  Browne's  books  about 
Psycho-evolution  or  something  until  Cuthbert  Vane 
came  along  and  relieved  her — and  me. 


136  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"It  would  have  happened,  though,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable Cuthbert  solemnly,  "if  it  hadn't  been  for  old 
Shaw.  I  can't  get  over  it,  Vir — Miss  Virginia,  that 
I  wasn't  on  deck  myself,  you  know.  Here's  old  Du- 
gald  been  doing  the  heroic  all  his  life,  and  now  he 
gets  his  chance  again  while  I'm  sleeping  off  those 
bally  cocoanuts.  It's  hard  on  a  chap.  I — I  wish  it 
had  been  me." 

However  dubious  his  grammar,  there  was  no  mis- 
taking the  look  that  brightened  like  the  dawn  in  the 
depths  of  his  clear  eyes,  My  breath  went  from  me 
suddenly. 

"Oh,"  I  cried  excitedly,  "isn't  that — yes,  I  thought 
it  was  the  dinner  gong!" 

For  as  if  in  response  to  my  dire  need,  the  clang 
of  Cookie's  gong  echoed  through  the  island  silences. 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND 

WHEN  after  those  poignant  moments  in  the 
boat  I  met  Dugald  Shaw  in  commonplace 
fashion  at  the  table,  a  sudden,  queer,  altogether  un- 
precedented shyness  seized  me.  I  sat  looking  down 
at  my  plate  with  the  gaucherie  of  a  silly  child. 

The  episode  of  the  afternoon  provided  Mr.  Tubbs 
with  ammunition  for  a  perfect  fusillade  of  wit.  He 
warned  Mr.  Shaw  that  hereafter  he  might  expect 
Neptune  to  have  a  grudge  against  him  for  having 
robbed  the  sea-god  of  his  beauteous  prey.  I  said  I 
thought  most  likely  it  was  not  Neptune  that  was 
robbed  but  sharks,  but  sharks  not  being  classic,  Mr. 
Tubbs  would  have  none  of  them.  He  said  he  be- 
lieved that  if  Mr.  Shaw  had  not  inopportunely  ar- 
rived, Neptune  with  his  tripod  would  soon  have  up- 
reared  upon  the  wave. 

"Oh — tripod,  Mr.  Tubbs?"  I  said  inquiringly. 

"Yes,  sure,""  he  returned  undaunted.  "Them 
137 


138  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

camera  supports  is  named  for  it,  you  know.  But  of 
course  this  gay  gink  of  a  Sandy  had  to  come  buttin' 
in.  Too  bad  the  Honorable  Bertie  had  partook 
so  free.  He'd  have  looked  the  part  all  right  when 
it  come  to  rescuin'  beauty  in  distress.  But  Fortune 
bein'  a  lady  and  naturally  capricious,  she  hands  the 
stunt  over  to  old  Sobersides  here." 

Just  then  old  Sobersides  cut  across  the  flow  of  Mr. 
Tubbs's  sprightly  conversation  and  with  a  certain 
harshness  of  tone  asked  Captain  Magnus  if  he  had 
had  good  sport  on  the  other  side  of  the  island.  Cap- 
tain Magnus,  as  usual,  had  seemed  to  feel  that  time 
consecrated  to  eating  was  wasted  in  conversation. 
At  this  point-blank  question  he  started  confusedly, 
stuttered,  and  finally  explained  that  though  he  had 
taken  a  rifle  he  had  carried  along  pistol  cartridges, 
so  had  come  home  with  an  empty  bag. 

At  this  moment  I  happened  to  be  looking  at 
Cookie,  who  was  setting  down  a  dish  before  Mr. 
Tubbs.  The  negro  started  visibly,  and  rolled  his 
eyes  at  Captain  Magnus  with  astonishment  depicted 
in  every  dusky  feature.  He  said  nothing,  although 
wont  to  take  part  in  our  conversation  as  it  suited 
him,  but  I  saw  him  shake  his  great  grizzled  head  in 
a  disturbed  and  puzzled  fashion  as  he  turned  away. 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      139 

After  this  a  chill  settled  on  the  table.  You  felt  a 
disturbance  in  the  air,  as  though  wireless  currents 
were  crossing  and  recrossing  in  general  confusion. 
Mr.  Tubbs  began  again  on  the  topic  of  my  rescue, 
and  said  it  was  too  bad  Mr.  Shaw's  name  wasn't 
Paul,  because  then  we'd  be  Paul  and  Virginia,  he, 
he !  My  aunt  said  encouragingly,  how  true !  because 
they  had  lived  on  an  island,  hadn't  they?  She  had 
read  the  book  many  years  ago,  and  had  mostly  for- 
gotten it,  not  having  Mr.  Tubbs's  marvelous  mem- 
ory, but  she  believed  there  was  something  quite  sad 
about  the  end,  though  very  sweet.  She  agreed  with 
Mr.  Tubbs  that  Mr.  Vane  would  have  looked  most 
picturesque  going  to  the  rescue  on  account  of  his 
sash,  and  it  was  too  bad  he  had  not  been  able,  but 
never  mind,  it  was  most  kind  of  Mr.  Shaw,  and  she 
was  sure  her  niece  appreciated  it  though  she  was 
afraid  she  hadn't  thanked  Mr.  Shaw  properly. 

By  this  time  it  was  perfectly  clear  that  Mr.  Shaw 
had  been  most  inconsiderate  in  dashing  out  after  me 
in  that  thoughtless  manner.  He  should  have  waked 
Cuthbert  Vane  and  helped  him  to  array  himself  be- 
comingly in  the  sash  and  then  sent  for  a  moving- 
picture  man  to-  go  out  in  another  boat  and  immor- 
talize the  touching  scene.  All  this  came  seething  to 


140  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

my  lips,  but  I  managed  to  suppress  it.  It  was  only 
on  Cuthbert  Vane's  account.  As  for  my  aunt  and 
Mr.  Tubbs,  I  could  have  bumped  their  heads  to- 
gether as  remorselessly  as  two  cocoanuts.  I  under- 
stood Aunt  Jane,  of  course.  In  spite  of  the  Honor- 
able Cuthbert's  recent  lapse,  her  imagination  still 
played  about  certain  little  cards  which  should  an- 
nounce to  an  envious  world  my  engagement  to  the 
Honorable  Cuthbert  Patrick  Ruthmore  Vane,  of 
High  Staunton  Manor,  Kent.  So  such  a  -faux  pas  as 
my  rescue  from  drowning  by  a  penniless  Scotch  sea- 
man couldn't  but  figure  in  her  mind  as  a  grievance. 

I  stole  a  glance  at  the  recipient  of  these  sorry 
thanks.  His  face  was  set  and — once  I  should  have 
called  it  grim,  but  I  knew  better  now.  There  was 
nothing  I  could  say  or  do.  Any  words  of  mine 
would  have  sounded  forced  and  puerile.  What  he 
had  done  was  so  far  beyond  thanks  that  spoken  grat- 
itude belittled  it.  And  yet,  suppose  he  thought  that 
like  the  rest  I  had  wished  another  in  his  place  ?  Did 
he  think  that — could  he,  with  the  memory  of  my 
arms  about  his  neck? 

I  only  knew  that  because  of  the  foolish  hateful 
words  that  had  been  said,  the  gulf  between  us  was 
wider  than  before. 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      141 

I  sat  dumb,  consumed  with  misery  and  hoping 
that  perhaps  I  might  meet  his  glance  and  so  tell  him 
silently  all  that  words  would  only  mar.  But  he 
never  looked  at  me.  And  then  the  first  bitterness, 
which  had  made  even  Cuthbert  seem  disloyal  in 
wishing  himself  in  his  friend's  place,  passed,  and 
gave  way  to  dreary  doubt.  Cuthbert  knew,  of 
course,  that  he  himself  would  have  prized — what  to 
Dugald  Shaw  was  a  matter  of  indifference.  Yes, 
that  was  it,  and  the  worst  that  Dugald  Shaw  was 
suffering  now  was  boredom  at  hearing  the  affair  so 
everlastingly  discussed. 

So  I  began  talking  very  fast  to  Mr.  Vane  and  we 
were  very  gay  and  he  tied  his  own  necktie  on  Crusoe 
on  consideration  that  he  be  held  hereafter  jointly. 
And — because  I  saw  that  Dugald  Shaw  was  looking 
now — I  smiled  lingeringly  into  the  eyes  of  .the  beau- 
tiful youth  and  said  all  right,  perhaps  we  needn't 
quarrel  over  our  mutual  dog,  and  then  skipped  off 
lightsomely,  feeling  exactly  like  a  scorpion  that  has 
been  wounding  itself  with  its  own  sting. 

As  I  passed  Cookie  at  his  dishpan  a  sudden 
thought  struck  me. 

"Cookie,"  I  remarked,  "y°u  had  a  frightfully 
queer  look  just  now  when  Captain  Magnus  told 


142  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

about  having  taken  the  wrong  cartridges.  What 
was  the  matter?" 

Cookie  took  his  hands  out  of  the  water  and  wiped 
off  the  suds,  casting  about  stealthy  and  mysterious 
glances.  Then  he  rolled  a  dubious  eye  at  me. 

"What  was  it,  Cookie?"  I  urged. 

"War  am  Cap'n  now  ?" 

"Down  on  the  beach ;  he  can't  possibly  hear  you." 

"You  won't  say  nothin'  to  git  Cookie  in  a  rum- 
pus?" 

"Cross  my  heart  to  die,  Cookie." 

"Well,  den" — Cookie  spoke  in  a  hoarse  whisper — 
"Cap'n  say  he  forgit  to  take  his  gun  ca'tridges.  Miss 
Jinny,  when  he  come  back,  I  see  him  empty  his  gun 
ca'tridges  out'n  his  belt  and  put  back  his  pistol 
cartridges.  So  dere  now !" 

I  turned  from  Cookie,  too  surprised  to  speak. 
Why  had  Captain  Magnus  been  at  pains  to  invent  a 
lie  about  so  trivial  a  matter?  I  recalled,  too,  that  Mr. 
Shaw's  question  had  confused  him,  that  he  had  hesi- 
tated and  stammered  before  answering  it.  Why? 
Was  he  a  bad  shot  and  ashamed  of  it  ?  Had  he  pre- 
ferred to  say  that  he  had  taken  the  wrong  ammuni- 
tion rather  than  admit  that  he  could  get  no  bag? 
That  must  be  the  explanation,  because  there  was  no 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      143 

other.  Certainly  no  imaginable  errand  but  the  one 
assigned  could  have  taken  the  captain  to  the  other 
side  of  the  island. 

Several  days  went  by,  and  still  the  treasure  was 
unfound.  Of  course,  as  the  unexplored  space  in  the 
cave  contracted,  so  daily  the  probability  grew 
stronger  that  Fortune  would  shed  her  golden  smile 
upon  us  before  night.  Nevertheless,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  the  optimistic  spirits  of  most  were  beginning  to 
flag  a  little.  Only  Mr.  Shaw,  though  banned  as  a 
confirmed  doubter  and  pessimist,  now  by  the  exer- 
cise of  will  kept  the  others  to  their  task.  It  took  all 
Cuthbert  Vane's  loyalty,  plus  an  indisposition  to  be 
called  a  slacker,  to  strive  against  the  temptation  to 
renounce  treasure-hunting  in  favor  of  roaming  with 
Crusoe  and  me.  As  for  Captain  Magnus,  his  rest- 
lessness was  manifest.  Several  times  he  had  sug- 
gested blowing  the  lid  off  the  island  with  dynamite, 
as  the  shortest  method  of  getting  at  the  gold.  He 
was  always  vanishing  on  solitary  excursions  inland. 

Mr.  Tubbs  remarked,  scornfully,  that  a  man  with 
a  nose  for  money  ought  to  have  smelled  out  the 
chest  before  this,  but  if  his  own  nasal  powers  were 
of  that  character  he  did  not  offer  to  employ  them  in 
the  service  of  the  expedition.  Miss  Higglesby- 


144  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Browne,  however,  had  taken  to  retiring  to  the  hut 
for  long  private  sessions  with  herself.  My  aunt  rev- 
erentially explained  their  purpose.  The  hiding-place 
of  the  chest  being  of  course  known  to  the  Univer- 
sal Wisdom,  all  Violet  had  to  do  was  to  put  her- 
self in  harmony  and  the  knowledge  would  be  hers. 
The  difficulty  was  that  you  had  first  to  overcome 
your  Mundane  Consciousness.  To  accomplish  this 
Violet  was  struggling  in  the  solitude  of  the  hut. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Tubbs  sat  at  the  feet  of  Aunt 
Jane,  reading  aloud  from  a  volume  entitled  Pecans 
of  Passion,  by  a  celebrated  lady  lyric  poet  of  our 
own  land. 

After  my  meeting  with  Captain  Magnus  in  the 
forest,  Lookout  Ridge  was  barred  to  me.  Crusoe 
and  I  must  do  our  rambling  in  other  directions. 
This  being  so,  I  bethought  me  again  of  the  wrecked 
sloop  lying  under  the  cliffs  on  the  north  shore  of 
the  cove.  I  remembered  that  there  had  seemed  to 
be  a  way  down  the  cliffs.  I  resolved  to  visit  the 
sloop  again.  The  terrible  practicality  of  the  beauti- 
ful youth  made  it  difficult  to  indulge  in  romantic 
musings  in  his  presence.  And  to  me  a  derelict 
brings  a  keener  tang  of  romance  than  any  other  relic 
of  man's  multitudinous  and  futile  strivings. 


••• 
-~fc».  "•*" 

Reading  aloud  from  Pceans  of  Passion. 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      145 

The  descent  of  the  gully  proved  an  easy  matter, 
and  soon  I  was  on  the  sand  beside  the  derelict. 
Sand  had  heaped  up  around  her'  hull,  and  filled  her 
cockpit  level  with  the  rail,  and  drifted  down  the  com- 
panion, stuffing  the  little  cabin  nearly  to  the  roof. 
Only  the  bow  rose  free  from  the  white  smother  of 
sand.  Whatever  wounds  there  were  in  her  buried 
sides  were  hidden.  You  felt  that  some  wild  caprice 
of  the  storm  had  lifted  her  and  set  her  down  here, 
not  too  roughly,  then  whirled  away  and  left  her  to 
the  sand. 

Crusoe  slipped  into  the  narrow  space  under  the 
roof  of  the  cabin,  and  I  leaned  idly  down  to  watch 
him  through  a  warped  seam  between  the  planks. 
Then  I  found  that  I  was  looking,  not  at  Crusoe,  but 
into  a  little  dim  enclosure  like  a  locker,  in  which 
some  small  object  faintly  caught  the  light.  With  a 
revived  hope  of  finding  relics  I  got  out  my  knife — a 
present  from  Cuthbert  Vane — and  set  briskly  to 
work  widening  the  seam. 

I  penetrated  finally  into  a  small  locker  or  cubby- 
hole, set  in  the  angle  under  the  roof  of  the  cabin, 
and,  as  subsequent  investigation  showed,  so  placed 
as  to  attract  no  notice  from  the  casual  eye.  I  ascer- 
tained this  by  lying  down  and  wriggling  my  head 


146  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

and  shoulders  into  the  cabin.  In  other  words,  I  had 
happened  on  a  little  private  depository,  in  which  the 
owner  of  the  sloop  might  stow  away  certain  small 
matters  that  concerned  him  intimately.  Yet  the  con- 
tents of  the  locker  at  first  seemed  trifling.  They 
were  an  old-fashioned  chased  silver  shoe-buckle,  and 
a  brown-covered  manuscript  book. 

The  book  had  suffered  much  from  dampness, 
whether  of  rains  or  the  wash  of  the  sea.  The  imi- 
tation leather  cover  was  flaking  off,  and  the  leaves 
were  stuck  together.  I  seated  myself  on  the  cabin 
roof,  extracted  a  hairpin,  and  began  carefully  sep- 
arating the  close-written  pages.  The  first  three  or 
four  were  quite  illegible,  the  ink  having  run.  Then 
the  writing  became  clearer.  I  made  out  a  word 
here  and  there : 

....directions     vague my     grandfather.... 

man  a  ruffian  but. . .  .no  motive. . .  .police  of  Ha- 
vana. . . .  frightful  den grandfather  made  sure 

. . .  .registry. . .  .Bonny  Lass. . . . 

And  at  that  I  gave  a  small  excited  shriek  which 
brought  Crusoe  to  me  in  a  hurry.  What  had  he  to 
do,  the  writer  of  this  journal,  what  had  he  to  do 
with  the  Bonny  Lass? 

Breathlessly  I  read  on : 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND     147 

. . .  .thought  captain  still  living  but  not  sure. . . . 
lost. . .  .Benito  Bon. . . . 

I  closed  the  book.  Now,  while  the  coast  was  clear, 
I  must  get  back  to  camp.  It  would  take  hours,  per- 
haps days,  to  decipher  the  journal  which  had  sud- 
denly become  of  such  supreme  importance.  I  must 
smuggle  it  unobserved  into  my  own  quarters,  where 
I  could  read  at  my  leisure.  As  I  set  out  I  dropped 
the  silver  shoe-buckle  into  my  pocket,  smiling  to 
think  that  it  was  I  who  had  discovered  the  first  bit 
of  precious  metal  on  the  island.  Yet  the  book  in  my 
hand,  I  felt  instinctively,  was  of  more  value  than 
many  shoe-buckles. 

Safely  in  my  hammock,  with  a  pillow  under  which 
I  could  slip  the  book  in  case  of  interruption,  I  re- 
sumed the  reading.  From  this  point  on,  although 
the  writing  was  somewhat  faded,  it  was  all,  with  a 
little  effort,  legible. 

THE  DIARY 

If  Sampson  did  live  to  tell  his  secret,  then  any  day 
there  may  be  a  sail  in  the  offing.  And  still  I  can  not 
find  it!  Oh,  if  my  grandfather  had  been  more 
worldly  wise!  If  he  hadn't  been  too  intent  on  the 


148  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

eternal  welfare  of  the  man  he  rescued  from  the  Ha- 
vana tavern  brawl  to  question  him  about  his  story. 
A  cave  on  Leeward  Island — near  by  a  stone  marked 
with  the  letters  B.  H.  and  a  cross-bones — /  told  the 
captain,  said  the  poor  dying  wretch,  we  wouldn't 
have  no  luck  after  playing  it  that  low  down  on  Bill! 
So  I  presume  Bill  lies  under  the  stone. 

Well,  all  I  have  is  in  this  venture.  The  old  farm 
paid  for  the  Island  Queen — or  will,  if  I  don't  get 
back  in  time  to  prevent  foreclosure.  All  my  staid 
New  England  relatives  think  me  mad.  A  copra 
gatherer !  A  fine  career  for  a  minister's  son !  Think 
how  your  father  scrimped  to  send  you  to  college — 
Aunt  Sarah  reproached  me.  Well,  when  I  get  home 
with  my  Spanish  doubloons  there  will  be  another 
story  to  tell.  I  won't  be  poor  crazy  Peter  then.  And 
Helen — oh,  how  often  I  wish  I  had  told  her  every- 
thing! It  was  too  much  to  ask  her  to  trust  me 
blindly  as  I  did.  But  from  the  moment  I  came  across 
the  story  in  grandfather's  old,  half-forgotten  diary 
— by  the  way,  the  diary  habit  seems  to  run  in  the 
family — a  very  passion  of  secrecy  has  possessed  me. 
If  I  had  told  Helen,  I  should  have  had  to  dread  that 
even  in  her  sweet  sleep  she  might  whisper  something 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      149 

to  put  that  ferret,  her  stepmother,  on  the  scent.    Oh, 
Helen,  trust  me,  trust  me ! 

December  25.  I  have  a  calendar  with  me,  so  I 
am  not  reduced  to  notching  a  stick  to  keep  track  of 
the  days.  I  mark  each  off  carefully  in  the  calendar. 
If  I  were  to  forget  to  do  this,  even  for  a  day  or  two, 
I  believe  I  should  quite  lose  track.  The  days  are  so 
terribly  alike! 

My  predecessor  here  in  the  copra-gathering  busi- 
ness, old  Heintz,  really  left  me  a  very  snug  estab- 
lishment. It  was  odd  that  I  should  have  run  across 
him  at  Panama  that  way.  I  sounded  him  on  the 
question  of  treasure.  He  said  placidly  that  of  course 
the  island  had  been  the  resort  of  Edward  Davis  and 
Benito  Bonito  and  others  of  the  black  flag  gentry, 
and  he  thought  it  very  likely  they  had  left  some  of 
their  spoils  behind  them,  but  though  he  had  done  a 
little  investigating  as  he  had  time  he  had  come  on 
nothing  but  a  ship's  lantern,  a  large  iron  kettle,  and 
the  golden  setting  of  a  bracelet  from  which  the 
jewels  had  been  removed.  He  had  already  dis- 
posed of  the  bracelet.  The  kettle  I  found  here,  and 
sank  in  the  spring  to  keep  the  water  clear.  (Where 
it  still  is.  V.  H.)  Evidently  old  Heintz  knew  noth- 


150  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

ing  of  the  Bonny  Lass.  This  was  an  immense  sat- 
isfaction, as  it  proves  that  the  story  can  not  have 
been  noised  about. 

Christmas  Day !  I  wonder  what  they  are  all  do- 
ing at  home  ? 

December  28.  Of  course  the  cave  under  the 
point  is  the  logical  place.  I  have  been  unable  to  find 
any  stone  marked  B.  H.  on  the  ground  above  it,  but 
I  fear  that  a  search  after  Bill's  tombstone  would  be 
hopeless.  Although  the  formation  of  the  island  is 
of  the  sort  to  contain  numerous  caves,  still  they  must 
be  considerably  less  plentiful  than  possible  tomb- 
stones. Under  circumstances  such  as  those  of  the 
mate's  story,  it  seems  to  me  that  all  the  probabilities 
point  to  their  concealing  the  chest  in  the  cave  with 
an  opening  on  the  bay.  It  must  have  been  necessary 
for  them  to  act  as  quickly  as  possible,  that  their  ab- 
sence from  the  ship  might  go  unnoticed — though  I 
believe  the  three  conspirators  had  made  the  crew 
drunk.  Then  to  get  the  boat,  laden  with  the  heavy 
chest,  through  the  surf  to  any  of  the  other  caves — - 
if  the  various  cracks  and  fissures  I  have  seen  are  in- 
deed properly  to  be  called  caves — would  be  stiff  work 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND     151 

for  three  men.  Yes,  everything  indicates  the  cavern 
under  the  point.  The  only  question  is,  isn't  it  indi- 
cated too  clearly?  Would  a  smooth  old  scoundrel 
such  as  this  Captain  Sampson  must  have  been  have 
hidden  his  treasure  in  the  very  place  certain  to 
be  ransacked  if  the  secret  ever  got  out?  Un- 
less it  was  deeply  buried,  which  it  could  have  been 
only  at  certain  stages  of  the  tide,  even  old  Heintz 
would  have  been  apt  to  come  across  it  in  the  course 
of  his  desultory  researches  for  the  riches  of  the  buc- 
caneers. And  I  am  certain  placid  old  Heintz  did  not 
mislead  me.  Besides,  at  Panama,  he  was  making 
arrangements  to  go  with  some  other  Germans  on  a 
small  business  venture  to  Samoa,  which  he  would  not 
have  been  likely  to  do  if  he  had  just  unearthed  a  vast 
fortune  in  buried  treasure.  Still,  I  shall  explore  the 
cave  thoroughly,  though  with  little  hope. 

Oh,  Helen,  if  I  could  watch  these  tropic  stars  with 
you  to-night ! 

January  6.  I  think  I  am  through  with  the  cave 
under  the  point — the  Cavern  of  the  Two  Arches,  I 
have  named  it.  It  is  a  dangerous  place  to  work  in 
alone,  and  my  little  skiff  has  been  badly  battered  sev- 
eral times.  But  I  peered  into  every  crevice  in  the 


152  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

walls,  and  sounded  the  sands  with  a  drill.  I  suppose 
I  would  have  made  a  more  thorough  job  of  it  if  I 
had  not  been  convinced  from  the  first  that  the  chest 
was  not  there.  It  was  not  reason  that  told  me  so — 
I  know  I  may  well  be  attributing  too  much  subtlety 
of  mind  to  Captain  Sampson — but  that  strange  guid- 
ing instinct — to  put  it  in  its  lowest  terms — which  I 
know  in  my  heart  I  must  follow  if  I  would  succeed. 
Shall  I  ever  forget  the  feeling  that  stirred  me  when 
first  I  turned  the  pages  of  my  grandfather's  diary 
and  saw  there,  in  his  faded  writing,  the  story  of  the 
mate  of  the  Bonny  Lass,  who  died  in  Havana  in  my 
grandfather's  arms?  My  grandfather  had  gone  as 
supercargo  in  his  own  ship,  and  while  he  did  a  good 
stroke  of  business  in  Havana — trust  his  shrewd 
Yankee  instincts  for  that — he  managed  to  combine 
the  service  of  God  with  that  of  Mammon.  Many  a 
poor  drunken  sailor,  taking  his  fling  ashore  in  the 
bright,  treacherous,  plague-ridden  city,  found  in  him 
a  friend,  as  did  the  mate  of  the  Bonny  Lass  in  his 
dying  hour.  Oh,  if  my  good  grandfather  had  but 
made  sure  from  the  man's  own  lips  exactly  where 
the  treasure  lay!  It  is  enough  to  make  one  fancy 
that  the  unknown  Bill,  who  paid  for  too  much 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      153 

knowledge  with  his  life,  has  his  own  fashion  of 
guarding  the  hoard.  But  I  ramble.  I  was  going  to 
say,  that  from  the  moment  when  I  learned  from  my 
grandfather's  diary  of  the  existence  of  the  treasure, 
I  have  been  driven  by  an  impulse  more  overmaster- 
ing than  anything  I  have  ever  experienced  in  my  life. 
It  was,  I  believe,  what  old-fashioned  pious  folk 
would  call  a  leading.  The  impetus  seemed  somehow 
to  come  from  outside  my  own  organism.  All  my 
life  I  had  been  irresolute,  the  sport  of  circumstances, 
trifling  with  this  and  that,  unable  to  set  my  face 
steadfastly  toward  any  goal.  Yet  never,  since  I  have 
trodden  this  path,  have  I  looked  to  right  or  left.  I 
have  defied  both  human  opinion  and  the  obstacles 
which  an  unfriendly  fate  has  thrown  in  my  way.  All 
alone,  I,  a  sailor  hitherto  of  pleasure-craft  among 
the  bays  and  islands  of  the  New  England  coast,  put 
forth  in  my  little  sloop  for  a  voyage  of  three  hun- 
dred miles  on  the  loneliest  wastes  of  the  Pacific.  All 
alone,  did  I  say?  No,  there  was  Benjy  the  faithful. 
His  head  is  at  my  knee  as  I  write.  He  knows,  I 
think,  that  his  master's  mood  is  sad  to-night.  Oh, 
Helen,  if  you  .ever  see  these  lines,  will  you  realize 
how  I  have  longed  for  you — how  it  sometimes  seems 


154  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

that  my  soul  must  tear  itself  loose  from  my  body  and 
speed  to  you  across  half  a  world? 

February  1.  Since  my  last  record  my  time  has 
been  well  filled.  In  the  Island  Queen  I  have  been 
surveying  the  coasts  of  my  domain,  sailing  as  close 
in  as  I  dared,  and  taking  note  of  every  crevice  that 
might  be  the  mouth  of  a  cave.  Then,  either  in  the 
rowboat  or  by  scrambling  down  the  cliffs,  I  visit  the 
indicated  point.  It  is  bitterly  hard  labor,  but  it  has 
its  compensations.  I  am  growing  hale  and  strong, 
brown  and  muscular.  Aunt  Sarah  won't  offer  me 
any  more  of  her  miserable  decoctions  when  I  go 
home.  Heading  first  toward  the  north,  I  am  sys- 
tematically making  the  rounds  of  the  island,  for, 
after  all,  how  do  I  know  for  certain  that  Captain 
Sampson  buried  his  treasure  near  the  east  anchor- 
age? For  greater  security  he  may  have  chosen  the 
other  side,  where  there  is  another  bay,  I  should  judge 
deeper  and  freer  of  rocks  than  this  one,  though  more 
open  to  storms. 

So  far  I  have  discovered  half  a  dozen  caves,  most 
of  them  quite  small.  Any  one  of  them  seemed  such 
a  likely  place  that  at  first  I  was  quite  hopeful.  But 
I  have  found  nothing.  Usually,  the  floor  of  the 


WHAT  CRUSOE  AND  I  FOUND      155 

cave  beneath  a  few  inches  of  sand  is  rock.  Only  in 
the  great  cave  under  the  point  have  I  found  sand  to 
any  depth.  The  formation  in  some  cases  is  little 
more  than  a  hardened  clay,  but  to  excavate  it  would 
require  long  toil,  probably  blasting — and  I  have  no 
explosives.  And  I  go  always  on  the  principle  that 
Captain  Sampson  and  his  two  assistants  had  not 
time  for  any  elaborate  work  of  concealment.  Most 
likely  they  laid  the  chest  in  some  natural  niche. 
Sailors  are  unskilled  in  the  use  of  such  implements 
as  spades,  and  besides,  the  very  heart  of  the  under- 
taking was  haste  and  secrecy.  They  must  have 
worked  at  night  and  between  two  tides,  for  few  of 
the  caves  can  be  reached  except  at  the  ebb.  And  I 
take  it  as  certain  that  the  cave  must  have  opened 
directly  on  the  sea.  For  three  men  to  transport 
such  a  weight  and  bulk  by  land  would  be  sheer  im- 
possibility. 

February  10.  To-day  a  strange,  strange  thing 
happened — so  strange,  so  wonderful  and  glorious 
that  it  ought  to  be  recorded  in  luminous  ink.  And 
I  owe  it  all  to  Benjy !  Little  dog,  you  shall  go  in  a 
golden  collar  "and  eat  lamb-chops  every  day!  This 
morning — 


156  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Across  my  absorption  in  the  diary  cut  the  unwel- 
come clangor  of  Cookie's  gong.  Right  on  the  breath- 
less edge  of  discovery  I  was  summoned,  with  my 
thrilling  secret  in  my  breast,  to  join  my  unsuspecting 
companions.  I  hid  the  book  carefully  in  my  cot. 
Not  until  the  light  of  to-morrow  morning  could  I 
return  to  its  perusal.  How  I  was  to  survive  the  in- 
terval I  did  not  know.  But  on  one  point  my  mind 
was  made  up — no  one  should  dream  of  the  existence 
of  the  diary  until  I  knew  all  that  it  had  to  impart. 


XI 


MISS  BROWNE  HAS  A  VISION 

PERHAPS  because  of  the  secret  excitement 
under  which  I  was  laboring,  I  seemed  that 
evening  unusually  aware  of  the  emotional  fluctua- 
tions of  those  about  me.  Violet  looked  grimmer  than 
ever,  so  that  I  judged  her  struggles  with  her  mun- 
dane consciousness  to  have  been  exceptionally  se- 
vere. Captain  Magnus  seemed  even  beyond  his 
wont  restless,  loose- jointed  and  wandering-eyed,  and 
performed  extraordinary  feats  of  sword-swallow- 
ing. Mr.  Shaw  was  very  silent,  and  his  forehead 
knitted  now  and  then  into  a  reflective  frown.  As 
for  myself,  I  had  much  ado  to  hide  my  abstraction, 
and  turned  cold  from  head  to  foot  with  alarm  when 
I  heard  my  own  voice  addressing  Crusoe  as  Benjy. 

A  faint  ripple  of  surprise  passed  round  the  table. 

"Named  your  dog  over  again,  Miss  Jinny?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Tubbs.  Mr.  Tubbs  had  adopted  a  fa^ 
cetiously  paternal  manner  toward  me.  I  knew  in  an-. 
157 


158  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

ticipation  of  the  moment  when  he  would  invite  me 
to  call  him  Uncle  Ham. 

"I  say,  you  know,"  expostulated  Cuthbert  Vane, 
"I  thought  Crusoe  rather  a  nice  name.  Never  heard 
of  any  chap  named  Benjy  that  lived  on  an  island." 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl,  Virginia,"  remarked 
Aunt  Jane,  with  the  air  of  immense  age  and  wisdom 
which  she  occasionally  assumed,  "my  grandmother — 
your  great-grandmother,  of  course,  my  love — would 
never  allow  me  to  name  my  dolls  a  second  time.  She 
did  not  approve  of  changeableness.  And  I  am  sure 
it  must  be  partly  due  to  your  great-grandmother's 
teaching  that  I  always  know  my  own  mind  directly 
about  everything.  She  was  quite  a  remarkable 
woman,  and  very  firm.  Firmness  has  been  consid- 
ered a  family  trait  with  us.  When  her  husband  died 
— your  great-grandfather,  you  know,  dear — she  rose 
above  her  grief  and  made  him  take  some  very  dis- 
agreeable medicine  to  the  very  last,  long  after  the 
doctors  had  given  up  hope.  As  some  relation  or 
other  said,  I  think  your  Great-Aunt  Susan's  father- 
in-law,  anybody  else  would  have  allowed  poor  John 
Harding  to  die  in  peace,  but  trust  Eliza  to  be  firm 
to  the  end." 

Under  cover  of  this  bit  of  family  history  I  tried 


MISS  BROWNE  HAS  A  VISION       159 

to  rally  from  my  confusion,  but  I  knew  my  cheeks 
were  burning.  Looks  of  deepening  surprise  greeted 
the  scarlet  emblems  of  discomfiture  that  I  hung  out. 

"By  heck,  bet  there's  a  feller  at  home  named 
Benjy !"  cackled  Mr.  Tubbs  shrilly,  and  for  once  I 
blessed  him. 

Aunt  Jane  turned  upon  him  her  round  innocent 
eyes. 

"Oh,  no,  Mr.  Tubbs,"  she  assured  him,  "I  don't 
think  a  single  one  of  them  was  named  Benjy!" 

The  laughter  which  followed  this  gave  me  time  to 
get  myself  in  hand  again. 

"Crusoe  it  is  and  will  be,"  I  asserted.  "Like 
Great-Grandmother  Harding,  I  don't  approve  of 
changeableness.  It  happens  that  a  girl  I  know  at 
home  has  a  dog  named  Benjy."  Which  happened 
fortunately  to  be  true,  for  otherwise  I  should  have 
been  obliged  to  invent  it.  But  the  girl  is  a  cat,  and 
the  dog  a  miserable  little  high-bred  something,  all 
shivers  and  no  hair.  I  should  never  have  thought  of 
him  in  the  same  breath  with  Crusoe. 

That  evening  Mr.  Shaw  addressed  the  gathering 
at  the  camp-fire — which  we  made  small  and  bright, 
and  then  sat  well  away  from  because  of  the  heat — 
and  in  a  few  words  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  any 


160  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

further  search  in  the  cave  under  the  point  was  use- 
less. (If  he  had  known  the  strange  confirmatory  echo 
which  this  awoke  in  my  mind!)  He  proposed  that 
the  shore  of  the  island  to  a  reasonable  distance  on 
either  side  of  the  bay-entrance  should  be  surveyed, 
with  a  view  to  discover  whether  some  other  cave 
did  not  exist  which  would  answer  the  description 
given  by  the  dying  Hopperdown  as  well  as  that  first 
explored. 

Mr.  Shaw's  words  were  addressed  to  the  ladies, 
the  organizer  and  financier,  respectively,  of  the  ex- 
pedition, to  the  very  deliberate  exclusion  of  Mr. 
Tubbs.  But  he  might  as  well  have  made  up  his  mind 
to  recognize  the  triumvirate.  Enthroned  on  a 
campy-chair  sat  Aunt  Jane,  like  a  little  goddess  of  the 
Dollar  Sign,  and  on  one  hand  Mr.  Tubbs  smiled 
blandly,  and  on  the  other  Violet  gloomed.  You  saw 
that  in  secret  council  Mr.  Shaw's  announcement  had 
been  foreseen  and  deliberated  upon. 

Mr.  Tubbs,  who  understood  very  well  the  role  of 
power  behind  the  throne,  left  it  to  Violet  to  reply. 
And  Miss  Browne,  who  carried  an  invisible  rostrum 
with  her  wherever  she  went,  now  alertly  mounted  it. 

"My  friends,"  she  began,  "those  dwelling  on  a 
plane  where  the  Material  is  all  may  fail  to  grasp  the 


MISS  BROWNE  HAS  A  VISION       161 

thought  which  I  shall  put  before  you  this  evening. 
They  may  not  understand  that  if  a  different  psychic 
atmosphere  had  existed  on  this  island  from  the  first 
we  should  not  now  be  gazing  into  a  blank  wall  of 
Doubt.  My  friends,  this  expedition  was,  so  to  speak, 
called  from  the  Void  by  Thought.  Thought  it  was,  as 
realized  in  steamships  and  other  ephemeral  forms, 
which  bore  us  thither  over  rolling  seas.  How  then 
can  it  be  otherwise  than  that  Thought  should  in- 
fluence our  fortunes — that  success  should  be  unable 
to  materialize  before  a  persistent  attitude  of  Nega- 
tion ?  My  friends,  you  will  perceive  that  there  is  no 
break  in  this  sequence  of  ideas;  all  is  remorseless 
logic. 

"In  order  to  withdraw  myself  from  this  atmos- 
phere of  Negation,  for  these  several  days  past  I  have 
sought  seclusion.  There  in  silence  I  have  asserted 
the  power  of  Positive  over  Negative  Thought,  gaz- 
ing meanwhile  into  the  profound  depths  of  the  All. 
My  friends,  an  answer  has  been  vouchsafed  us;  I 
have  had  a  vision  of  that  for  which  we  seek.  Now 
at  last,  in  a  spirit  of  glad  confidence,  we  may  ad- 
vance. For,  my  friends,  the  chest  is  buried — in 
sand." 

With  this  triumphant  announcement  Miss  Hig- 


162  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

glesby-Browne  sat  down.  A  heavy  silence  succeeded. 
It  was  broken  by  a  murmur  from  Mr.  Tubbs. 

"Wonderful— that's  what  I  call  wonderful!  Talk 
about  the  eloquence  of  the  ancients — I  believe,  by 
gum,  this  is  on  a  par  with  Congressional  oratory !" 

"A  vision,  Miss  Browne,"  said  Mr.  Shaw  gravely, 
"must  be  an  interesting  thing.  I  have  never  seen  one 
myself,  having  no  talents  that  way,  but  in  the  little 
Scotch  town  of  Dumbiedykes  where  I  was  born  there 
was  an  old  lady  with  a  remarkable  gift  of  the  second 
sight.  Simple  folk,  not  being  acquainted  with  the 
proper  terms  to  fit  the  case,  called  her  the  Wise 
Woman.  Well,  one  day  my  aunt  had  been  to  the 
neighboring  town  of  Micklestane,  five  miles  off,  and 
on  the  way  back  to  Dumbiedykes  she  lost  her  purse. 
It  had  three  sovereigns  in  it — a  great  sum  to  my 
aunt.  In  her  trouble  of  mind  she  hurried  to  the  Wise 
Woman — a  thing  to  make  her  pious  father  turn  in 
his  grave.  The  Wise  Woman — gazed  into  the  All, 
I  suppose,  and  told  my  aunt  not  to  fret  herself,  for 
she  had  had  a  vision  of  the  purse  and  it  lay  some- 
where on  the  road  between  Micklestane  and  Dumbie- 
dykes. 

"Now,  Miss  Browne,  I'll  take  the  liberty  of  draw- 
ing a  moral  from  this  story  to  fit  the  present  in- 


MISS  BROWNE  HAS  A  VISION       163 

stance :  where  on  the  road  between  Micklestane  and 
Dumbiedykes  is  the  chest?" 

Though  startled  at  the  audacity  of  Mr.  Shaw,  I 
was  unprepared  for  the  spasm  of  absolute  fury  that 
convulsed  Miss  Browne's  countenance. 

"Mr.  Shaw,"  she  thundered,  "if  you  intend  to 
draw  a  parallel  between  me  and  an  ignorant  Scotch 
peasant — !" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Shaw  calmly,  "forebye  the 
Wise  Woman  was  a  most  respectable  person  and  had 
a  grandson  in  the  kirk.  The  point  is,  can  you  indi- 
cate with  any  degree  of  exactness  the  whereabouts 
of  the  chest?  For  there  is  a  good  deal  of  sand  on 
the  shores  of  this  island." 

"Oh,  but  Mr.  Shaw !"  interposed  Aunt  Jane  trem- 
ulously. "In  the  sand — why,  I  am  sure  that  is  such 
a  helpful  thought!  It  shows  quite  plainly  that  the 
chest  is  not  buried  in — in  a  rock,  you  know."  She 
gave  the  effect  of  a  person  trying  to  deflect  a  thun- 
derstorm with  a  palm-leaf  fan. 

"Dynamite — dynamite — blow  the  lid  off  the 
island !"  mumbled  Captain  Magnus. 

"If  any  one  has  a  definite  plan  to  propose,"  said 
Mr.  Shaw,  "I  am  very  ready  to  consider  it.  I  have 
understood  myself  from  the  first  to  be  acting  under 


164  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  directions  of  the  ladies  who  planned  this  expe- 
dition. As  a  mere  matter  of  honesty  to  my  em- 
ployers, I  should  feel  bound  to  spare  no  effort  to  find 
the  treasure,  even  if  my  own  interests  were  not  so 
vitally  concerned.  Considering  its  importance  to 
myself,  no  one  can  well  suppose  that  I  am  not  doing 
all  in  my  power  to  bring  the  chest  to  light.  To- 
morrow, if  the  sea  is  favorable,  it  is  my  intention  to 
set  out  in  the  boat  to  determine  the  character  of  such 
other  caves  as  exist  on  the  island.  I'll  want  you  with 
me,  lad,  and  you  too,  Magnus." 

Captain  Magnus  looked  more  ill  at  ease  than  usual. 

"Did  you  think  o'  rowin'  the  whole  way  round  the 
'dinged  chunk  o*  rock  ?"  he  inquired. 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Shaw  with  an  impatient 
frown.  So  the  man,  in  addition  to  his  other  unat- 
tractive qualities,  was  turning  out  a  shirk !  Hitherto, 
with  his  strength  and  feverish  if  intermittent  energy, 
plus  an  almost  uncanny  skill  with  boats,  he  had  been 
of  value.  "Certainly  not.  We  are  going  to  make  a 
careful  survey  of  the  cliffs,  and  explore  every  likely 
opening  as  thoroughly  as  possible.  It  will  be  slow 
work  and  hard.  As  to  circumnavigating  the  island, 
I  see  no  point  in  it,  for  I  don't  believe  the  chest  can 
have  been  carried  any  great  distance  from  the  cove." 


MISS  BROWNE  HAS  A  VISION       165 

"Oh — all  right,"  said  Captain  Magnus. 

Mr.  Tubbs,  who  had  been  whispering  with  Aunt 
Jane  and  Miss  Browne,  now  with  a  very  made-to- 
order  casualness  proposed  to  the  two  ladies  that  they 
take  a  stroll  on  the  beach.  This  meant  that  the  tri- 
umvirate were  to  withdraw  for  discussion,  and; 
amounted  to  notice  that  henceforth  the  counsels  of 
the  company  would  be  divided. 

Captain  Magnus,  after  an  uneasy  wriggle  or  two, 
said  he  guessed  he'd  turn  in.  Cookie's  snores  were 
already  audible  between  splashes  of  the  waves  on 
the  sands.  The  Scotchman,  Cuthbert  Vane  and  I 
continued  to  sit  by  the  dying  fire.  Mr.  Shaw  had 
got  out  his  pipe  and  sat  silently  puffing  at  it.  He 
might  have  been  sitting  in  solitude  on  the  topmost 
crag  of  the  island,  so  remote  seemed  that  impassive 
presence.  Was  it  possible  that  ever,  except  in  the 
sweet  madness  of  a  dream,  I  had  been  in  his  arms, 
pillowed  and  cherished  there,  that  he  had  called  me 
lassie — 

I  lifted  my  eyes  to  the  kind  honest  gaze  of  Cuth- 
bert Vane.  It  was  as  faithful  as  Crusoe's  and  no 
more  embarrassing.  A  great  impulse  of  affection 
moved  me.  I  was  near  putting  out  a  hand  to  pat  his 
splendid  head.  Oh,  how  easy,  comfortable,  and 


166  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

calm  would  be  a  life  with  Cuthbert  Vane!  I  wasn't 
thinking  about  the  title  now — Cuthbert  would  be 
quite  worth  while  for  himself.  For  a  moment  I  al- 
most saw  with  Aunt  Jane's  eyes.  Fancy  trotting 
him  out  before  the  girls!  stole  insidiously  into  my 
mind.  How  much  more  dazzling  than  a  plain  Scotch 
sailor — 

I  turned  in  bitterness  and  yearning  from  the  silent 
figure  by  the  fire. 

I  think  in  an  earlier  lifetime  I  must  have  been  a 
huntress  and  loved  to  pursue  the  game  that  fled. 


XII 

THE  ISLAND  QUEEN^S  FREIGHT 

I  WOKE  next  morning  with  a  great  thrill  of  ex- 
hilaration. Perhaps  before  the  sun  went  down 
again  I  should  know  the  secret  of  the  island. 

The  two  divisions  of  our  party,  which  were  desig- 
nated by  me  privately  the  Land  and  Sea  Forces, 
went  their  separate  ways  directly  after  breakfast, 
which  we  ate  in  the  cool  of  earliest  morning.  I 
could  retire  to  the  perusal  of  the  journal  which  I 
had  recovered  from  the  wrecked  sloop  without  fear 
of  interruption. 

I  resumed  my  reading  with  the  entry  of  Feb- 
ruary 10. 

This  morning,  having  grown  very  tired  of  fish,  of 
which  I  get  plenty  every  time  I  go  out  in  the  boat  by 
dragging  a  line  behind,  I  decided  to  stay  ashore  and 
hunt  pig.  I  set  out  across  the  base  of  the  point, 
nearly  due  south — whereas  I  had  been  working  along 
167 


168  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  coast  to  the  north  of  the  cove.  On  my  right  the 
slope  of  the  mountain  rose  steeply,  and  as  I  ap- 
proached the  south  shore  the  rise  of  the  peak  became 
more  abrupt,  and  great  jutting  crags  leaned  out  over 
the  tree-tops  below. 

I  reached  the  edge  of  the  cliffs  and  found  that  on 
my  right  hand  the  mountain  dropped  in  a  sheer 
precipice  from  hundreds  of  feet  above  me  straight 
into  the  sea.  I  considered,  and  made  up  my  mind 
that  by  striking  back  some  distance  one  might  by  a 
very  rough  climb  gain  the  top  of  the  precipice,  and 
so  swing  around  the  shoulder  of  the  mountain.  I 
did  not  feel  inclined  to  attempt  it  The  cliffs  at  this 
point  offered  no  means  of  descent,  and  the  few  yards 
of  sand  which  the  receding  tide  had  left  bare  at  their 
foot  led  nowhere. 

So  far  I  had  seen  no  pig,  and  I  began  to  think  they 
must  all  be  feeding  on  the  other  side  of  the  island. 
I  turned  to  go  back,  and  at  that  moment  I  heard 
an  outcry  in  the  bushes  and  Benjy  came  tearing  out 
at  the  heels  of  a  fine  young  porker.  I  threw  up  my 
gun  to  fire,  but  the  evolutions  of  Benjy  and  the  pig 
were  such  that  I  was  as  likely  to  hit  one  as  the  other. 
The  pig,  of  course,  made  desperate  efforts  to  escape 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     169 

from  the  cul-de-sac  in  which  he  found  himself.  His 
only  hope  was  to  get  back  into  the  woods  on  the 
point.  Benjy  kept  him  headed  off  successfully,  and 
I  began  to  edge  up,  watching  my  chance  for  a  shot. 
Suddenly  the  pig  came  dashing  straight  toward  me 
— oblivious,  I  suppose,  to  everything  but  the  white 
snapping  terror  at  his  heels.  Taken  by  surprise,  I 
fired — and  missed.  The  pig  shot  between  my  knees, 
Benjy  after  him.  I  withstood  the  shock  of  the  pig, 
but  not  of  Benjy.  I  fell,  clawing  wildly,  into  a 
matted  mass  of  creepers  that  covered  the  ground  be- 
side me. 

I  got  to  my  feet  quickly,  dragging  the  whole  mass 
of  vines  up  with  me.  Then  I  saw  that  they  had  cov- 
ered a  curiously  regular  little  patch  of  ground,  out- 
lined at  intervals  with  small  stones.  At  one  end  was 
a  larger  stone. 

The  patch  was  narrow,  about  six  feet  long — in- 
stantly suggestive  of  a  grave.  But  swift  beyond  all 
process  of  reason  was  the  certainty  that  flashed  into 
my  mind.  I  fell  on  my  knees  beside  the  stone  at  the 
head  and  pulled  away  the  torn  vine-tendrils.  I  saw 
the  letters  B.  H.  and  an  attempt  at  cross-bones  rudely 
cut  into  the  surface  of  the  stone. 


170  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

I  closed  my  eyes  and  tried  to  steady  myself.  I 
thought,  /  am  seeing  things.  This  is  the  mere  pro- 
jection of  the  vision  which  has  been  in  my  mind  so 
long. 

I  opened  my  eyes,  and  lo,  the  fantasy,  if  fantasy 
it  were,  remained.  I  smote  with  my  fist  upon  the 
stone.  The  stone  was  solid — it  bruised  the  flesh. 
And  as  I  saw  the  blood  run,  I  screamed  aloud  like  a 
madman,  "It's  real,  real,  real!" 

Under  the  stone  lay  the  guardian  of  the  treasure 
of  the  Bonny  Lass — And  his  secret  was  within  my 
grasp. 

I  don't  know  how  long  I  crouched  beside  the  stone, 
as  drunk  with  joy  as  any  hasheesh  toper  with  his 
drug.  I  roused  at  last  to  find  Benjy  at  my  shoulder, 
thrusting  his  cool  nose  against  my  feverish  cheek. 
I  suppose  he  didn't  understand  my  ignoring  him  so, 
or  thought  I  scorned  him  for  losing  out  in  his  race 
with  the  pig.  Yet  when  I  think  of  what  I  owe  that 
pig  I  could  swear  never  to  taste  pork  again. 

Brought  back  to  earth  and  sanity,  I  rose  and  began 
to  consider  my  surroundings.  Somewhere  close  at 
hand  was  the  mouth  of  the  cave — but  where?  The 
cliffs,  as  I  have  already  said,  were  too  steep  for  de- 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     171 

scent.  Nothing  but  a  fly  could  have  crawled  down 
them.  I  turned  to  the  craggy  face  of  the  mountain. 
There,  surely,  must  be  the  entrance  to  the  cave !  For 
hours  I  clambered  among  the  rocks,  risking  mangled 
limbs  and  sunstroke — and  found  no  cave.  I  came 
back  at  last,  wearily,  to  the  grave.  There  lay  the 
dust  of  the  brain  that  had  known  all — and  a  wild  im- 
pulse came  to  me  to  tear  away  the  earth  with  my 
bare  hands,  to  dig  deep,  deep — and  then  with  listen- 
ing ear  wait  for  a  whispered  word. 

I  put  the  delirious  fancy  from  me  and  moved  away 
to  the  edge  of  the  cliffs.  Looking  down,  I  saw  a  nar- 
row sloping  shelf  which  dropped  from  the  brink  to 
a  distance  of  ten  or  twelve  feet  below,  where  it  met 
a  slight  projection  of  the  rock.  I  had  seen  it  before, 
of  course,  but  it  had  carried  no  significance  for  my 
mind.  Now  I  stepped  down  upon  the  ledge  and  fol- 
lowed it  to  its  end  in  the  angle  of  the  rock. 

Snugly  hidden  in  the  angle  was  a  low  doorway 
leading  into  blackness. 

Now  of  course  I  ought  in  prudence  to  have  gone 
back  to  the  hut  and  got  matches  and  a  lantern  and  a 
rope  before  J  set  foot  in  the  darkness  of  that  un- 
known place.  But  what  had  I  to  do  to-day  with 


172  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

prudence — Fortune  had  me  by  the  hand !  In  I  went 
boldly,  Benjy  at  my  heels.  The  passage  turned 
sharply,  and  for  a  little  way  we  walked  in  blackness. 
Then  it  veered  again,  and  a  faint  and  far-off  light 
seemed  to  filter  its  way  to  us  through  a  web  woven 
of  the  very  stuff  of  night.  The  floor  sloped  a  little 
downward.  I  felt  my  way  with  my  feet,  and  came 
to  a  step — another.  I  was  going  along  a  descending 
passage,  cut  at  its  steepest  into  rough,  irregular 
stairs.  With  either  hand  I  could  touch  the  walls. 
All  the  while  the  light  grew  clearer.  Presently,  by 
another  sharp  turn,  I  found  myself  in  a  cave,  some 
thirty  feet  in  depth  by  eighteen  across,  with  an  open- 
ing on  the  narrow  strip  of  beach  I  had  seen  from  the 
top  of  the  cliffs. 

The  roof  is  high,  with  an  effect  of  Gothic  arches. 
Near  the  mouth  is  a  tiny  spring  of  ice-cold  water, 
which  has  worn  a  clean  rock-channel  for  itself  to  the 
sea.  Otherwise  the  cave  is  perfectly  dry.  The  shin- 
ing white  sand  of  its  floor  is  above  the  highest  water- 
mark on  the  cliffs  outside.  There  is  no  doubt  in  my 
mind  that  in  the  great  buccaneering  days  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  and  probably  much  later,  the  place 
was  the  haunt  of  pirates.  One  fancies  that  Captain 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     173 

Sampson  of  the  Bonny  Lass  may  have  known  of  it 
before  he  brought  the  treasure  to  the  island.  There 
were  queer  folk  to  be  met  with  in  those  days  in  the 
Western  Ocean!  The  cave  is  cool  at  blazing  mid- 
day, and  secret,  I  fancy,  even  from  the  sea,  because 
of  the  droop  of  great  rock-eaves  above  its  mouth. 
Either  for  the  keeping  of  stores  or  as  a  hiding-place 
for  men  or  treasure  it  would  be  admirable.  Yes,  the 
cave  has  seen  many  a  fierce,  sea-tanned  face  and 
tarry  pigtail,  and  echoed  to  strange  oaths  and  wild 
sea-songs.  Men  had  carved  those  steps  in  the  pas- 
sage— thirty-two  of  them.  In  the  sand  of  the  floor, 
as  I  kicked  it  up  with  my  feet,  hoping  rather  child- 
ishly to  strike  the  corner  of  the  chest,  I  found  the 
hilt  and  part  of  the  blade  of  a  rusty  cutlass,  and  a 
chased  silver  shoe-buckle.  I  shall  take  the  buckle 
home  to  Helen — and  yet  how  trivial  it  will  seem, 
with  all  else  that  I  have  to  offer  her!  Nevertheless 
she  will  prize  it  as  my  gift,  and  because  it  comes 
from  the  place  to  which  some  kind  angel  led  me  for 
her  sake. 

I  left  the  cave  and  hurried  back  to  the  cabin  for  a 
spade,  walking  on  air,  breaking  with  snatches  of 
song  the  terrible  stillness  of  the  woods,  where  one 


174  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

hears  only  the  high  fitful  sighing  of  the  wind,  or 
the  eternal  mutter  of  the  sea.  As  I  came  out  of  the 
hut  with  the  spade  over  my  shoulder  I  waved  my 
hand  to  the  Island  Queen  riding  at  anchor. 

"You'll  soon  be  showing  a  clean  pair  of  heels  to 
Leeward,  old  girl !"  I  cried.  Back  in  the  cave,  I  set 
to  work  feverishly,  making  the  light  sand  fly.  I  be- 
gan at  the  rear  of  the  cavern,  reasoning  that  there 
the  sand  would  lie  at  greater  depth,  also  that  it 
would  be  above  the  wash  of  the  heaviest  storms.  At 
the  end  of  half  an  hour,  at  a  point  close  to  the  angle 
of  the  wall  my  spade  struck  a  hard  surface.  It  lay, 
I  should  judge,  under  about  two  feet  of  sand.  Soon 
I  had  laid  bare  a  patch  of  dark  wood  which  rang  un- 
der my  knuckles  almost  like  iron.  A  little  more,  and 
I  had  cleared  away  the  sand  from  the  top  of  a  large 
chest  with  a  convex  lid,  heavily  bound  in  brass. 

Furiously  I  flung  the  sand  aside  until  the  chest 
stood  free  for  half  its  depth — which  is  roughly  three 
feet.  It  has  handles  at  the  ends,  great  hand-wrought 
loops  of  metal.  I  tugged  my  hardest,  but  the  chest 
seemed  fast  in  its  place  as  the  native  rock.  I  laughed 
exultantly.  The  weight  meant  gold — gold !  I  had 
hammer  and  chisel  with  me,  and  with  these  I  forced 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     175 

the  massive  ancient  locks.  There  were  three  of 
them,  one  for  each  strip  of  brass  which  bound  the 
chest.  Then  I  flung  up  the  lid. 

No  glittering  treasure  dazzled  me.  I  saw  only  a 
surface  of  stained  canvas,  tucked  in  carefully  around 
the  edges.  This  I  tore  off  and  flung  aside — eclipsing 
poor  Benjy,  who  was  a  most  interested  spectator  of 
my  strange  proceedings.  Still  no  gleam  of  gold, 
merely  demure  rows  of  plump  brown  bags.  With 
both  hands  I  reached  for  them.  Oh,  to  grasp  them 
all !  I  had  to  be  content  with  two,  because  they  were 
so  heavy,  so  blessedly  heavy! 

I  spread  the  square  of  canvas  on  the  sand,  cut  the 
strings  from  the  bags,  and  poured  out — gold,  gold ! 
All  fair  shining  golden  coins  they  were,  not  a  paltry 
silver  piece  among  them!  And  they  made  a  soft 
golden  music  as  they  fell  in  a  glorious  yellow  heap. 

I  don't  know  how  long  I  sat  there,  playing  with 
my  gold,  running  it  through  my  fingers,  clinking  the 
coins  together  in  my  palm.  Benjy  came  and  sniffed 
at  them  indifferently,  unable  to  understand  his  mas- 
ter's preoccupation.  He  thrust  his  nose  into  my  face 
and  barked,  and  said  as  clearly  as  with  words,  Come, 
hunt  pig! 


176  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"Benjy,"  I  said,  "we'll  leave  the  pork  alone  just 
now.  We  have  work  enough  to  count  our  money. 
We're  rich,  old  boy,  rich,  rich !" 

Of  course,  I  don't  yet  know  exactly  what  the  value 
of  the  treasure  is.  I  have  counted  the  bags  in  the 
chest ;  there  are  one  hundred  and  forty-eight.  Each, 
so  far  as  I  have  determined,  contains  one  thousand 
doubloons,  which  makes  a  total  of  one  hundred  and 
forty-eight  thousand.  Estimating  each  coin,  for  the 
sake  of  even  figures,  at  a  value  of  seven  dollars — a 
safe  minimum — you  get  one  million,  thirty-six  thou- 
sand dollars.  And  as  many  of  the  coins  are  ancient, 
I  ought  to  reap  a  harvest  from  collectors. 

Besides  the  coin,  I  found,  rather  surprisingly,  laid 
between  the  upper  layers  of  bags,  a  silver  crucifix 
about  nine  inches  long.  It  is  of  very  quaint  old 
workmanship,  and  badly  tarnished.  Its  money  value 
must  be  very  trifling,  compared  to  the  same  bulk  of 
golden  coins.  I  think  it  must  have  had  some  special 
character  of  sacredness  which  led  to  its  preservation 
here.  It  is  strange  to  find  such  a  relic  among  a  treas- 
ure so  stained  by  blood  and  crime. 

And  now  I  have  to  think  about  moving  the  gold. 
First  of  all  I  must  get  the  chest  itself  aboard  the 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     177 

Island  Queen.  This  means  that  I  shall  have  to  empty 
it  and  leave  the  gold  in  the  cave,  while  I  get  the  chest 
out  by  sea.  When  the  chest  is  safely  in  the  cabin  of 
the  sloop — where  it  won't  leave  much  room  for 
Benjy  and  his  master,  I'm  afraid — I  will  take  the 
bags  of  coin  out  by  the  land  entrance.  I  can't  think 
of  risking  my  precious  doubloons  in  the  voyage 
around  the  point. 

Of  course  I  should  have  liked  to  get  to  the  task 
to-day,  but  after  the  first  mad  thrill  of  the  great 
event  was  over,  I  found  myself  as  weak  and  un- 
nerved as  a  woman.  So  by  a  great  effort  I  came 
away  and  left  my  glorious  golden  hoard.  Now  I 
dream  and  gloat,  playing  with  the  idea  that  to-mor- 
row I  shall  find  it  all  a  fantasy.  The  pleasure  of 
this  is,  of  course,  that  all  the  while  I  know  this  wild- 
est of  all  Arabian  fairy  tales  to  be  as  real  as  the  most 
drab  and  sober  fact  of  my  hitherto  colorless  life. 

After  all,  on  the  way  back  from  the  cave  Benjy 
brought  down  a  pig.  So  he  is  as  well  pleased  with 
the  day  as  I  am.  Now  I  am  sitting  in  the  doorway 
of  my  cabin,  writing  up  my  journal,  and  trying  to 
calm  down  enough  to  go  to  bed.  If  it  were  not  for 
the  swift  fading  of  daylight,  I  would  go  back  to  the 


178  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

cave  for  another  peep  into  the  chest.  But  all  round 
the  island  the  sea  is  moaning  with  that  peculiarly 
melancholy  note  that  comes  with  the  falling  of  night. 
The  sea-birds  have  risen  from  the  cove  and  gone 
wheeling  off  in  troops  to  their  nests  on  the  cliffs. 
Somehow  a  curious  dislike,  almost  fear,  of  this  wild, 
sea-girt,  solitary  place  has  come  over  me.  I  long  for 
the  sound  of  human  voices,  the  touch  of  human 
hands.  I  think  of  the  dead  man  lying  there  at  the 
door  of  the  cave,  its  silent  guardian  for  so  long.  I 
suppose  he  brooded  once  on  the  thought  of  the  gold 
as  I  do — perhaps  he  has  been  brooding  so  these 
ninety  years!  I  wonder  if  he  is  pleased  that  I,  a 
stranger,  have  come  into  possession  of  his  secret 
hoard  at  last  ? 

Oh,  Helen,  turn  your  heavenly  face  on  me — be  my 
refuge  from  these  shuddering  unwholesome 
thoughts !  The  gold  is  for  you — for  you !  Surely 
that  must  cleanse  it  of  its  stains,  must  loose  the 
clutch  of  the  dead  hands  that  strive  to  hold  it! 

February  11.  This  morning  I  was  early  at  the 
cave.  Yes,  there  it  was,  the  same  wonder-chest  that 
I  had  dreamed  of  all  night  long.  It  was  absurd  how 
the  tightness  in  my  breast  relaxed. 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     179 

.  I  began  at  once  the  work  of  removing  the  bags 
from  the  chest  and  stacking  them  in  the  corner  of 
the  cave.  It  was  a  fatiguing  job,  I  had  to  stoop  so. 
At  the  bottom  of  the  chest  I  found  a  small  portfolio 
of  very  fine  leather  containing  documents  in  Span- 
ish. They  bear  an  official  seal.  Although  I  should 
be  interested  to  know  their  meaning,  I  think  I  shall 
destroy  them.  They  weaken  my  feeling  of  owner- 
ship; I  suppose  there  is  a  slight  flavor  of  lawlessness 
in  my  carrying  off  the  gold  from  the  island  like  this. 
Very  likely  the  little  Spanish-American  state  which 
has  some  claim  to  overlordship  here  would  dispute 
my  right  to  the  treasure-trove. 

I  spent  so  much  time  unloading  the  chest  and 
poring  over  the  papers,  trying,  by  means  of  my  ill- 
remembered  Latin,  to  make  out  the  sense  of  the  kin- 
dred Spanish,  that  before  I  was  ready  to  go  for  my 
boat  the  tide  was  up  and  pounding  on  the  rocks  be- 
low the  cave.  I  find  that  only  at  certain  stages  of  the 
tide  is  the  cave  approachable  by  sea.  At  the  turn 
after  high  water,  for  instance,  there  is  such  a  terrific 
undertow  that  it  sets  up  a  small  maelstrom  among 
the  reefs  lyingfoff  the  island.  At  low  tide  is  the  time 
to  come. 


180  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

February  12.  Got  the  chest  out  of  the  cave, 
though  it  was  a  difficult  job.  I  don't  know  of  what 
wood  the  thing  is  built — some  South  American  hard- 
wood, I  fancy — but  it  weighs  like  metal.  The  heavy 
brass  clampings  count  for  something,  of  course. 
Luckily  there  was  no  sea,  and  I  had  a  smooth  pas- 
sage around  the  point.  I  laughed  rather  ruefully  as 
I  passed  the  Cave  of  the  Two  Arches.  To  think  of 
the  toil  I  wasted  there !  I  wish  Benjy  had  encoun- 
tered the  fateful  pig  a  little  sooner. 

Got  the  chest  aboard  the  Island  Queen  and  stowed 
in  the  cabin.  Not  room  left  to  swing  a  kitten.  Con- 
trived an  elaborate  arrangement  of  ropes  and  spikes 
to  keep  it  in  place  in  a  heavy  sea. 

In  the  afternoon  began  moving  the  gold.  It's  the 
deuce  of  a  job. 

February  15.  Been  hard  at  it  for  three  days. 
Most  of  the  gold  moved.  Have  to  think  too  of  pro- 
visions and  water  for  the  trip.  I  am  making  rather 
a  liberal  allowance,  in  case  of  being  blown  out  of  my 
course  by  a  tropical  gale. 

February  16.  On  board  the  Island  Queen.  Have 
moved  my  traps  from  the  hut  and  am  sleeping  on 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT     181 

the  sloop.  Want  to  be  near  the  gold.  "Where  the 
treasure  is,  there  will  the  heart  be  also,"  and  in  this 
case  the  body  as  well.  To-morrow  I  have  only  to 
bring  the  last  of  the  gold  aboard — a  trifling  matter 
— and  then  go  out  with  the  ebb.  I  would  have  got 
all  the  bags  on  board  to-day,  but  I  noticed  a  worn 
stretch  in  the  cable  holding  the  sloop  and  stopped  to 
repair  it.  I  can't  have  the  sloop  going  on  the  rocks 
in  case  a  blow  comes  up  to-night.  There  are  only 
about  a  load  and  a  half  of  bags  left  in  the  cave. 

A  queer  notion  seized  me  to-day  about  the  cruci- 
fix, when  I  was  bringing  it  from  the  cave.  It  seemed 
to  float  into  my  Srain — I  can't  say  from  what  quarter 
— that  I  had  better,  leave  the  crucifix  for  Bill.  It 
wasn't  more  than  he  had  a  right  to,  really — and  there 
is  no  virtue  in  a  cross-bones  to  make  a  man  sleep 
well. 

Of  course  I  put  the  absurd  idea  from  me,  and 
brought  the  crucifix  aboard  along  with  the  rest  of 
the  gold.  I  shall  be  glad  when  I  know  that  the  vines 
have  again  covered  that  lonely-looking  gravestone 
from  sight.  I  can't  help  feeling  my  own  glorious 
good  fortune  to  be  somehow  an  affront  to  poor  un- 
lucky Bill. 


182  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Tomorrow  one  last  trip  to  the  cave,  and  then  hey, 
for  home  and  Helen ! 

The  diary  ended  here. 

I  closed  the  book,  and  stared  with  unseeing  eyes 
into  the  green  shadows  of  the  encompassing  woods. 
W 'hat  happened  to  the  writer  of  the  diary  on  that  last 
trip  to  the  cavef  For  he  had  never  left  the  island. 
Crusoe  was  here  to  prove  it,  as  well  as  the  wreck  of 
the  Island  Queen.  And,  in  all  human  probability, 
under  the  sand  which  choked  the  cabin  of  the  derelict 
was  the  long-sought  chest  of  Spanish  doubloons. 

But  what  was  the  mysterious  fate  of  Peter?  Had 
he  fallen  overboard  from  the  sloop  and  been 
drowned?  Had  he  returned  to  the  cave — and  was 
he  there  still?  It  was  all  a  mystery — but  a  mystery 
which  I  burne4  to  solve. 

Of  course  I  might  have  solved  it,  very  quickly, 
merely  by  communicating  the  extraordinary  knowl- 
edge which  had  come  to  me  to  my  companions.  But 
for  the  present  at  least  I  meant  to  keep  this  astound- 
ing secret  for  my  own.  Somehow  or  other,  by  guile 
or  lucky  circumstance,  I  must  bring  it  about  that  the 
document  I  had  signed  at  Miss  Browne's  behest  was 
canceled.  Was  I,  who  all  unaided  had  discovered, 


THE  ISLAND  QUEEN'S  FREIGHT   183 

or  as  good  as  discovered,  the  vainly-sought- for  treas- 
ure, to  disclose  its  whereabouts  to  those  who  would 
deny  me  the  smallest  claim  upon  its  contents  ?  Was 
I  to  see  all  those  "fair,  shining  golden  coins,"  par- 
celed out  between  Miss  Browne,  and  Mr.  Tubbs,  and 
Captain  Magnus  (the  three  who  loomed  large  in  my 
indignant  thoughts),  and  not  possess  a  single  one 
myself?  Or  perhaps  accept  a  little  stingy  present 
of  a  few  ?  I  really  wasn't  very  covetous  about  the 
money,  taken  just  as  money;  but  considered  as 
buried  treasure  it  made  my  mouth  water. 

Then  besides,  while  I  kept  my  secret  I  had  power ; 
everybody's  destiny  was  in  my  hands.  This  was  a 
sweet  thought.  I  felt  that  1  should  enjoy  going 
about  with  a  deceptive  meekness,  and  taking  the  se- 
verest snubs  from  Miss  Browne,  knowing  that  at 
any  moment  I  could  blossom  forth  into  the  most 
exalted  and  thrilling  importance.  Also,  not  only 
did  I  want  a  share  in  the  treasure  myself,  but  I 
wanted,  if  possible,  to  divide  it  up  on  a  different 
basis  from  the  present.  I  wanted  Cuthbert  Vane  to 
have  a  lot  of  it — and  I  should  have  been  much  better 
pleased  not  to  let  Mr.  Tubbs  or  Captain  Magnus 
have  any.  I  <lid  not  crave  to  enrich  Violet,  and  I 
thought  Aunt  Jane  had  already  more  money  than 


184  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

was  good  for  her.  Give  her  another  half-million, 
\and  Mr.  Tubbs  would  commit  bigamy,  if  necessary, 
for  her  sake. 

And  then  there  was  Dugald  Shaw,  who  had  saved 
my  life,  and  who  seemed  to  have  forgotten  it,  and 
that  I  had  ever  had  my  arms  about  his  neck — and 
who  was  poor — and  brave — 

Yes,  decidedly,  I  should  keep  my  secret  yet  a 
while,  till  I  saw  how  the  cards  were  going  to  fall. 


XIII 

I  BRING  TO  LIGHT  A  CLUE 

MY  FIRST  and  all  but  overpowering  impulse 
was  to  possess  myself  of  a  spade  and  dash 
for  the  wreck  of  the  Island  Queen.  Sober  second 
thought  restrained  me.  Merely  to  get  there  and 
back  would  consume  much  time,  for  the  descent  of 
the  cliffs,  and  still  more  the  climb  up  again,  was  a 
toilsome  affair.  Also,  reflection  showed  me  that  to 
dig  through  the  damp  close-packed  sand  of  the  cabin 
would  be  no  trifling  task,  for  I  should  be  ham- 
pered by  the  need  of  throwing  out  the  excavated 
sand  behind  me  through  the  narrow  companionway. 
I  could  achieve  my  end,  no  doubt,  by  patient  bur- 
rowing, but  it  would  require  much  more  time  than  I 
had  at  my  command  before  the  noon-day  sounding 
of  Cookie's  gong.  I  must  not  be  seen  departing  or 
returning  with  a  spade,  but  make  off  with  the  imple- 
ment in  a  stealthy  and  burglarious  manner.  Above 
all,  I  must  not  risk  betraying  my  secret  through  im- 
patience. 

185 


186  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

But  there  was  nothing  to  forbid  an  immediate  pil- 
grimage to  the  much-sought  gravestone  with  its  sin- 
ister symbol.  The  account  in  Peter's  diary  of  his 
adventure  with  the  pig  placed  the  grave  with  such 
exactness  that  I  had  no  doubt  of  finding  it  easily. 
That  done,  I  would  know  very  nearly  where  to  look 
for  the  cave — and  in  order  to  bid  defiance  to  a  cer- 
tain chill  sense  of  reluctance  which  beset  me  at  the 
thought  of  the  cave  I  started  out  at  once,  skirting 
the  clearing  with  much  circumspection,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  even  the  sight  of  my  vanishing  back  must 
shout  of  mystery  to  Cookie  droning  hymns  among 
his  pots  and  pans.  Crusoe,  of  course,  came  with  me, 
happily  unconscious  of  his  own  strange  relation  to 
our  quest. 

Following  in  the  steps  of  Peter,  who  seemed  in 
an  airy  and  uncomfortable  fashion  to  be  bearing  me 
company,  I  struck  across  the  point,  at  the  base  of 
the  rough  slope  which  marks  the  first  rise  of  the 
peak.  As  I  neared  the  sea  on  the  other  side  great 
crags  began  to  overhang  the  path,  which  was,  of 
course,  no  path,  but  merely  the  line  of  least  resist- 
ance through  the  woods.  Soon  the  noise  of  the  sea, 
of  which  one  was  never  altogether  free  on  the  island, 
though  it  reaches  the  recesses  of  the  forest  only 


I  BRING  TO  LIGHT  A  CLUE        187 

as  a  vast  nameless  murmur,  broke  in  heightened 
clamor  on  my  ears.  I  heard  the  waves  roaring  and 
dashing  on  rocks  far  below — and  then  I  stood  at  the 
dizzy  edge  of  the  plateau  looking  out  over  the  illim- 
itable gleaming  reaches  of  the  sea. 

Somewhere  in  this  angle  between  the  ragged  mar- 
gin of  the  cliffs  and  the  abrupt  rise  of  the  craggy 
mountainside,  according  to  Peter's  journal,  lay  the 
grave.  I  began  systematically  to  poke  with  a  stick 
I  carried  into  every  low-growing  mass  of  vines  or 
bushes.  Because  of  the  comparatively  rocky,  sterile 
soil  the  woods  were  thinner  here,  and  the  under- 
growth was  greater.  Only  the  very  definite  localiza- 
tion of  the  grave  by  the  accommodating  diarist  gave 
any  hope  of  finding  it. 

And  then,  quite  suddenly,  I  found  it.  My  prod- 
dings  had  displaced  a  matted  mass  of  ground- 
creeper.  Beneath,  looking  raw  and  naked  without 
its  leafy  covering,  was  the  "curiously  regular  little 
patch  of  ground,  outlined  at  intervals  with  small 
stones."  Panic-stricken  beetles  scuttled  for  refuge. 
A  great  green  slug  undulated  painfully  across  his 
suddenly  denuded  pasture.  A  whole  small  world 
found  itself  hurled  back  to  chaos. 

At  the  head  of  the  grave  lay  a  large,  smoothly- 


188  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

rounded  stone.  I  knelt  and  brushed  away  some  ob- 
stinate vine-tendrils,  and  the  letters  "B.  H."  revealed 
themselves,  cut  deeply  and  irregularly  into  the  slop- 
ing face  of  the  stone.  Below  was  the  half-intelligi- 
ble symbol  of  the  crossed  bones. 

There  was  something  in  the  utter  loneliness  of  the 
place  that  caught  my  breath  sharply.  At  once  I  had 
the  feeling  of  a  marauder.  Here  slept  the  guardian 
of  the  treasure — and  yet  in  defiance  of  him  I  meant 
to  have  it.  So,  too,  had  Peter — and  I  didn't  know 
yet  what  he  had  managed  to  do  to  Peter — but  I 
guessed  from  his  journal  that  Peter  had  been  a 
slightly  morbid  person.  He  had  let  the  wild  soli- 
tude of  the  island  frighten  him.  He  had  indulged 
foolish  fancies  about  crucifixes.  He  had  in  fact 
let  the  defenses  of  his  will  be  undermined  ever  so 
little — and  then  of  course  there  was  no  telling  what 
They  could  do  to  you. 

With  an  impatient  shiver  I  got  up  quickly  from 
my  knees.  What  abominable  nonsense  I  had  been 
talking — was  there  a  miasma  about  that  old  grave 
that  affected  one?  I  whistled  to  Crusoe,  who  was 
trotting  busily  about  on  mysterious  intelligence  con- 
veyed to  him  by  his  nose.  He  ran  to  me  joyfully, 
and  I  stooped  and  patted  his  warm  vigorous  body. 


JFhen,  quite  suddenly,  I  found  it. 


I  BRING  TO  LIGHT  A  CLUE         189 

"Let  Bill  walk,  Crusoe,"  I  remarked,  "let  him! 
He  needn't  be  a  dog  in  the  manger  about  the  treas- 
ure, anyhow." 

Now  came  the  moment  which  I  had  been  trying 
not  to  think  about.  I  had  to  find  the  entrance  to 
the  cave,  and  then  go  into  it  or  part  with  my  own 
esteem  forever.  I  went  and  peered  over  the  cliff. 
I  had  an  unacknowledged  hope  that  the  shelf  of 
which  Peter  had  written  had  been  rent  off  by  some 
cataclysm  and  that  I  could  not  possibly  get  down  to 
the  doorway  in  the  rock.  My  hope  was  vain.  The 
ledge  was  there — not  an  inviting  ledge,  nor  one  on 
which  the  unacrobatically  inclined  would  have  any 
impulse  to  saunter,  but  a  perfectly  good  ledge,  on 
which  I  had  not  the  slightest  excuse  for  declining  to 
venture.  Seventy  feet  below  I  saw  a  narrow  strip 
of  sand,  from  which  the  tide  was  receding.  It  ran 
along  under  the  great  precipice  which  rose  on  my 
right,  forming  the  face  of  the  mountain  on  the  south 
side.  On  that  strip  of  sand  the  old  hiding-place  of 
the  pirates  opened.  I  thought  I  saw  the  overhanging 
eaves  of  rock  of  which  the  diary  had  spoken. 

There  was  truly  nothing  dangerous  about  the 
ledge.  It  was  nearly  three  feet  wide,  and  had  an 
easy  downward  trend.  Yet  you  heard  the  hungry 


190  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

roar  of  the  surf  below,  and  try  as  you  would  not  to, 
caught  glimpses  of  the  white  swirl  of  it.  I  moved 
cautiously,  keeping  close  to  the  face  of  the  cliff. 
Crusoe,  to  my  annoyance,  sprang  down  upon  the 
ledge  after  me.  I  had  a  feeling  that  he  must  cer- 
tainly trip  me  as  I  picked  my  way  gingerly  along. 

An  angle  in  the  rock — a  low  dark  entrance-way — 
it  was  all  as  Peter  had  described  it.  I  peered  in — 
nothing  but  impenetrable  blackness.  I  took  a  hesi- 
tating step.  The  passage  veered  sharply,  as  the 
diary  had  recorded.  Once  around  the  corner,  there 
would  be  nothing  but  darkness  anywhere.  One 
would  go  stumbling  on,  feeling  with  feet  and  hands 
— hands  cold  with  the  dread  of  what  they  might  be 
going  to  touch.  For,  suddenly  portentous  and  over- 
whelming, there  rose  before  me  the  unanswered 
question  of  what  had  become  of  Peter  on  that  last 
visit  to  the  cave.  Unanswered — and  unanswerable 
except  in  one  way :  by  going  in  to  see. 

But  if  by  any  strange  chance — where  all  chances 
were  strange — he  were  still  there,  I  did  not  want  to 
see.  I  did  not  like  to  contemplate  his  possible  neigh- 
borhood. Indeed,  he  grew  enormously  more  real  to 
me  with  every  instant  I  stood  there,  and  whereas  I 
had  so  far  thought  principally  about  the  treasure,  I 


I  BRING  TO  LIGHT  A  CLUE        191 

now  began  to  think  with  intensity  of  Peter.  What 
ironic  stroke  of  fate  had  cut  him  down  in  the  very 
moment  of  his  triumph?  Had  he  ever  reached  the 
cave  to  bring  away  the  last  of  the  doubloons  ?  Were 
they  still  waiting  there  unclaimed?  Had  he  fallen 
victim  to  some  extraordinary  mischance  on  the  way 
back  to  the  Island  Queen?  Had  a  storm  come  up  on 
that  last  night,  and  the  weakened  cable  parted,  and 
the  Island  Queen  gone  on  the  rocks,  drowning  Peter 
in  the  cabin  with  his  gold  ?  Then  how  had  Crusoe 
got  away,  Crusoe,  who  feared  the  waves  so,  and 
would  bark  at  them  and  then  turn  tail  and  run? 

Speaking  of  Crusoe,  where  was  he?  I  realized 
that  a  moment  ago  he  had  plunged  into  the  passage. 
I  heard  the  patter  of  his  feet — a  pause.  A  queer, 
dismal  little  whine  echoed  along  the  passage.  I 
heard  Crusoe  returning — but  before  his  nose  ap- 
peared around  the  angle  of  the  tunnel,  his  mistress 
had  reached  the  top  of  the  cliff  at  a  bound  and  was 
vanishing  at  a  brisk  pace  into  the  woods. 

With  bitterness,  as  I  pursued  my  way  to  camp,  I 
realized  that  I  was  not  a  heroine.  Here  was  a  mys- 
tery— it  was  the  business  of  a  heroine  to  solve  it. 
Now  that  I  was  safely  away  from  the  cave,  I  began 
to  feel  the  itch  of  a  torturing  curiosity.  How,  with- 


192  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

out  going  into  the  terrifying  place  alone,  should  I 
find  out  what  was  there  ?  Should  I  pretend  to  have 
accidentally  discovered  the  grave,  lead  the  party  to 
it,  and  then — again  accidentally — discover  the  tun- 
nel? This  plan  had  its  merits — but  I  discarded  it, 
for  fear  that  something  would  be  found  in  the  cave 
to  direct  attention  to  the  Island  Queen.  Then  I 
reflected  that  very  likely  the  explorers  would  work 
round  the  island  far  enough  to  find  the  sea-mouth  of 
the  cave.  This  would  take  matters  entirely  out  of 
my  hands.  I  should  perhaps  be  enlightened  as  to  the 
fate  of  Peter  and  the  last  remaining  bags  of 
doubloons,  but  might  also  have  to  share  the  secret  of 
the  derelict  with  the  rest.  And  then  all  my  dreams 
of  playing  fairy  godmother  and  showering  down  on 
certain  heads — like  coals  of  fire — torrents  of  beauti- 
ful golden  doubloons,  would  be  over. 

On  the  whole  I  could  not  tell  whether  I  burned 
with  impatience  to  have  the  cave  discovered,  or  was 
cold  with  the  fear  of  it. 

And  then,  so  vigorous  is  the  instinct  to  see  one's 
self  in  heroic  postures,  I  found  I  was  trying  to  cheat 
myself  with  the  pretense  that  I  meant  presently  to 
abstract  Aunt  Jane's  electric  torch  and  returning  to 
the  tunnel-mouth  plunge  in  dauntlessly. 


XIV 

MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS 

I  HAD  determined  as  an  offset  to  my  pusillani- 
mous behavior  about  the  cave  to  show  a  dogged 
industry  in  the  matter  of  the  Island  Queen.  It 
would  take  me  a  long  while  to  get  down  through  the 
sand  to  the  chest,  but  I  resolved  to  accomplish  it, 
and  borrowed  of  Cookie,  without  his  knowledge,  a 
large  iron  spoon  which  I  thought  I  could  wield  more 
easily  than  a  heavy  spade.  Besides,  Cookie  would 
be  less  sleuth-like  in  getting  on  the  trail  of  his  miss- 
ing property  than  Mr.  Shaw — though  there  would 
be  a  certain  piquancy  in  having  that  martinet  hale  me 
before  him  for  stealing  a  spade. 

But  that  afternoon  I  was  tired  and  hot — it  really 
called  for  a  grimmer  resolve  than  mine  to  shovel 
sand  through  the  languor  of  a  Leeward  Island  after- 
noon. Instead,  I  slept  in  my  hammock,  and  dreamed 
that  I  was  queen  of  a  cannibal  island,  draped  in  neck- 
193 


194  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

laces  made  of  the  doubloons  now  hidden  under  the 
sand  in  the  cabin  of  the  derelict. 

Later,  the  wailing  of  Cookie  was  heard  in  the 
land,  and  I  had  to  restore  the  spoon  to  free  Crusoe 
of  the  charge  of  having  stolen  it.  I  said  I  had 
wanted  it  to  dig  with.  But  of  course  it  occurred  to 
no  one  that  it  was  the  treasure  I  had  expected  to  dig 
up  with  Cookie's  spoon.  It  was  touching  to  see  the 
universal  faith  in  the  trivial  nature  of  my  employ- 
ments, to  know  that  every  one  imagined  themselves 
to  be  seriously  occupied,  while  I  was  merely  a  girl — 
there  is  no  common  denominator  for  the  qualifying 
adjective — who  roamed  about  idly  with  a  dog,  and 
that  no  one  dreamed  that  we  had  thus  come  to  be  po- 
tentially among  the  richest  dogs  and  girls  in  these 
latitudes. 

A  more  serious  obstacle  to  my  explorations  on  the 
Island  Queen  presented  itself  next  day.  Instead  of 
putting  to  sea,  Mr.  Shaw  and  Captain  Magnus 
hauled  the  boat  up  on  the  beach  and  set  to  work  to 
repair  it.  The  wild  work  of  exploring  the  coast  had 
left  the  boat  with  leaky  seams  and  a  damaged  gun- 
wale. The  preceding  day  had  been  filled  with  hard- 
ship and  danger — so  much  so  that  my  heart  sank  a 
little  at  the  recountal  of  it.  You  saw  the  little  boat 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  195 

threading  its  way  among  the  reefs,  tossed  like  sea- 
weed by  the  white  teeth  of  gnawing  waves,  screamed 
at  by  angry  gulls  whose  homes  were  those  clefts  and 
caves  which  the  boat  invaded.  And  all  this,  poor  lit- 
tle boat,  on  a  hopeless  quest — for  no  reward  but  peril 
and  wounds.  Captain  Magnus  had  a  bruised  and 
bleeding  wrist,  but  refused  to  have  it  dressed,  vaunt- 
ing his  hardihood  with  a  savage  pride.  Cuthbert 
Vane,  however,  had  a  sprained  thumb  which  could 
not  be  ignored,  and  on  the  strength  of  which  he  was 
dismissed  from  the  boat-repairing  contingent,  and 
thrown  on  my  hands  to  entertain.  So  of  course  I 
had  to  renounce  all  thoughts  of  visiting  the  sloop. 
I  should  not  have  dared  to  go  there  anyway,  with 
Mr.  Shaw  and  the  captain  able  more  or  less  to  over- 
look my  motions  from  the  beach,  for  I  was  quite 
morbidly  afraid  of  attracting  attention  to  the  der- 
elict. It  seemed  to  me  a  happy  miracle  that  no  one 
but  myself  had  taken  any  interest  in  her,  or  been  in- 
spired to  ask  by  what  chance  so  small  a  boat  had 
come  to  be  wrecked  upon  these  desolate  shores.  For- 
tunately in  her  position  in  the  shadow  of  the  cliff 
she  was  inconspicuous,  so  that  she  might  easily  have 
been  taken  for  the  half  of  a  large  boat  instead  of  the 
whole  of  a  small  one,  or  she  must  before  this  have 


196  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

drawn  the  questioning  notice  of  the  Scotchman.  As 
to  the  captain,  his  attention  was  all  set  on  the  effort 
to  discover  the  cave,  and  his  intelligence  was  not 
lively  enough  to  start  on  an  entirely  new  tack  by 
itself.  And  the  Honorable  Cuthbert  viewed  derelicts 
as  he  viewed  the  planetary  bodies ;  somehow  in  the 
course  of  nature  they  happened. 

So,  dissembling  my  excitements  and  anxieties,  I 
swung  placidly  in  my  hammock,  and  near  by  sat  the 
beautiful  youth  with  his  thumb  carried  tenderly  in 
a  bandage.  In  my  preoccupied  state  of  mind,  to  en- 
tertain him  might  have  seemed  by  no  means  an  idle 
pastime,  if  he  hadn't  unexpectedly  developed  a  talka- 
tive streak  himself.  Was  it  merely  my  being  so 
distrait,  or  was  it  quite  another  reason,  that  led  him 
to  open  up  so  suddenly  about  his  Kentish  home? 
Strange  to  say,  instead  of  panting  for  the  title,  Cuth- 
bert wanted  his  brother  to  go  on  living,  though  there 
was  something  queer  about  his  spine,  poor  fellow, 
and  the  doctors  said  he  couldn't  possibly —  Of 
course  I  was  surprised  at  Cuthbert's  views,  for  I  had 
always  thought  that  if  there  were  a  title  in  your  fam- 
ily your  sentiments  toward  those  who  kept  you  out 
of  it  were  necessarily  murderous,  and  your  tears 
crocodile  when  you  pretended  to  weep  over  their 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  197 

biers.  But  Cuthbert's  feelings  were  so  human  that 
I  mentally  apologized  to  the  nobility.  As  to  High 
Staunton  Manor,  I  adored  it.  It  is  mostly  Jacobean, 
but  with  an  ancient  Tudor  wing,  and  it  has  a  chapel 
and  a  ghost  and  a  secret  staircase  and  a  frightfully 
beautiful  and  wicked  ancestress  hanging  in  the  hall 
— I  mean  a  portrait  of  her — and  quantities  of  oak 
paneling  quite  black  with  age,  and  silver  that  was 
hidden  in  the  family  tombs  when  Cromwell's  soldiers 
came,  and  a  chamber  where  Elizabeth  once  slept,  and 
other  romantic  details  too  numerous  to  mention.  It 
is  all  a  little  bit  run  down  and  shabby,  for  lack  of 
money  to  keep  it  up,  and  of  course  on  that  account 
all  the  more  entrancing.  Naturally  the  less  money 
the  more  aristocracy,  for  it  meant  that  the  family 
had  never  descended  to  marrying  coal  miners  and 
brewers — which  comment  is  my  own,  for  Cuthbert 
was  quite  destitute  of  swank. 

The  present  Lord  Grasmere  lived  up  to  his  posi- 
tion so  completely  that  he  had  the  gout  and  sat  with 
his  foot  on  a  cushion  exactly  like  all  the  elderly  aris- 
tocrats you  ever  heard  of,  only  when  I  inquired  if 
his  lordship  cursed  his  valet  and  flung  plates  at  the 
footmen  when  his  foot  hurt  him  his  son  was  much 
shocked  and  pained.  He  did  not  realize  so  well  as 


198  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

I — from  an  extensive  course  of  novel-reading — that 
such  is  the  usual  behavior  of  titled  persons. 

It  was  delightful,  there  in  the  hot  stillness  of  the 
island,  with  the  palms  rustling  faintly  overhead,  to 
hear  of  that  cool,  mossy,  ancient  place.  I  asked 
eager  questions — I  repeated  gloatingly  fragments 
of  description — I  wondered  enviously  what  it  would 
be  like  to  have  anything  so  old  and  proud  and  beauti- 
ful in  your  very  blood — when  suddenly  I  realized 
that,  misled  by  my  enthusiasm,  Cuthbert  was  saying 
something  which  must  not  be  said — that  he  was 
about  to  offer  the  shelter  of  that  ancient  roof  to  me. 
To  me,  whose  heart  could  never  nest  there,  but  must 
be  ever  on  the  wing,  a  wild  bird  of  passage  in  the 
track  of  a  ship — 

I  sat  up  with  a  galvanic  start.  "Oh — listen — 
didn't  you  hear  something?"  I  desperately  broke 
in.  For  somehow  I  must  stop  him.  I  didn't  want 
our  nice  jolly  friendship  spoiled — and  besides,  fancy 
being  cooped  up  on  an  island  with  a  man  you  have 
refused!  Especially  when  all  the  while  you'd  be 
wanting  so  to  pet  and  console  him ! 

But  with  his  calm  doggedness  Cuthbert  began 
again — "I  was  a  bit  afraid  the  old  place  would 
have  seemed  too  quiet  and  dull  to  you — "  when  the 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  199 

day  was  saved  and  my  interruption  strangely  justi- 
fied by  a  shrill  outcry  from  the  camp. 

I  knew  that  high  falsetto  tone.  It  was  the  voice 
of  Mr.  Tubbs,  but  pitched  in  a  key  of  quite  insane 
excitement.  I  sprang  up  and  ran,  Crusoe  and  the 
Honorable  Cuthbert  at  my  heels.  There  in  the  midst 
of  the  camp  Mr.  Tubbs  stood,  the  center  of  a  group 
who  were  regarding  him  with  astonished  looks.  Mr. 
Shaw  and  the  captain  had  left  their  tinkering, 
Cookie  his  saucepans,  and  Aunt  Jane  and  Violet  had 
come  hurrying  from  the  hut.  Among  us  all  stood 
Mr.  Tubbs  with  folded  arms,  looking  round  upon 
the  company  with  an  extraordinary  air  of  com- 
placency and  triumph. 

"What  is  it,  oh,  what  is  it,  Mr.  Tubbs?"  cried 
Aunt  Jane,  fluttering  with  the  consciousness  of  her 
proprietorship. 

But  Mr.  Tubbs  glanced  at  her  as  indifferently  as 
a  sated  turkey-buzzard  at  a  morsel  which  has  ceased 
to  tempt  him. 

"Mr.  Tubbs,"  commanded  Violet,  "speak — ex- 
plain yourself !" 

"Come,  out  with  it,  Tubbs,"  advised  Mr.  Shaw. 

Then  the  lips  of  Mr.  Tubbs  parted,  and  from  them 
issued  this  solitary  word : 


200  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"Eureka!" 

"What?"  screamed  Miss  Higglesby-Browne. 
"You  have  found  it?" 

Solemnly  Mr.  Tubbs  inclined  his  head. 

"Eureka !"  he  repeated.    "I  have  found  it !" 

Amidst  the  exclamations,  the  questions,  the  gen- 
eral commotion  which  ensued,  I  had  room  for  only 
one  thought — that  Mr.  Tubbs  had  somehow  discov- 
ered the  treasure  in  the  cabin  of  the  Island  Queen. 
Indeed,  I  should  have  shrieked  the  words  aloud,  but 
for  a  providential  dumbness  that  fell  upon  me. 
Meanwhile  Mr.  Tubbs  had  unfolded  his  arms  from 
their  Napoleonic  posture  on  his  bosom  long  enough 
to  wave  his  hand  for  silence. 

"Friends,"  he  began,  "it  has  been  known  from  the 
start  that  there  was  a  landmark  on  this  little  old 
island  that  would  give  any  party  discovering  the 
same  a  line  on  that  chest  of  money  right  away. 
There's  been  some  that  was  too  high  up  in  the  ex- 
ploring business  to  waste  time  looking  for  land- 
marks. They  had  ruther  do  more  fancy  stunts, 
where  what  with  surf,  and  sharks,  and  bangin'  up 
the  boat,  they  could  make  a  good  show  of  gettin' 
busy.  But  old  Ham  Tubbs,  he  don't  let  on  to  be  a 
ero.  Jest  a  plain  man  o'  business — that's  old  H.  H. 


'Mr.  Tubbs — explain  yourself. 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  201 

Consequence  is,  he  leaves  the  other  fellers  have  the 
brass  band,  while  he  sets  out  on  the  q.  t.  to  run  a  cer- 
tain little  clue  to  earth.  And,  ladies  and  gentlemen> 
he's  run  it !" 

"You  have  found — you  have  found  the  treasure  I'* 
shrilled  Aunt  Jane. 

Contrary  to  his  bland  custom,  Mr.  Tubbs  frowned 
at  her  darkly. 

"I  said  I  found  the  clue"  he  corrected.  "Of 
course,  it's  the  same  thing.  Ladies  and  gentlemen, 
not  to  appear  to  be  a  hot-air  artist,  I  will  tell  you  in 
a  word,  that  I  have  located  the  tombstone  of  one 
William  Halliwell,  deceased !" 

Of  course.  Not  once  had  I  thought  of  it.  Bare, 
stark,  glaring  up  at  the  sun,  lay  the  stone  carved  with 
the  letters  and  the  cross-bones.  Forgetting  in  the 
haste  of  my  departure  to  replace  the  vines  upon  the 
grave,  I  had  left  the  stone  to  shout  its  secret  to  the 
first  comer.  And  that  had  happened  to  be  Mr.  Tubbs. 
Happened,  I  say,  for  I  knew  that  he  had  not  had 
the  slightest  notion  where  to  look  for  the  grave  of 
Bill  Halliwell.  This  running  to  earth  of  clues  was 
purely  an  affair  of  his  own  picturesque  imagination. 

I  wondered  uneasily  what  he  had  made  of  the  up- 
rooted vines — but  he  would  lay  them  to  the  pigs,  no 


202  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

doubt.  In  the  countenance  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  flushed 
and  exultant,  there  was  no  suspicion  that  the  secret 
was  not  all  his  own. 

Miss  Higglesby-Browne  had  been  settling  her  hel- 
met more  firmly  upon  her  wiry  locks.  She  had  a 
closed  umbrella  beneath  her  arm,  and  she  drew  and 
brandished  it  like  a  saber  as  she  took  a  long  stride 
forward. 

"Mr.  Tubbs,"  she  commanded,  "lead  on!" 

But  Mr.  Tubbs  did  not  lead  on.  He  stood  quite 
still,  regarding  Miss  Browne  with  a  smile  of  infinite 
slyness. 

"Oh,  no  indeed!"  he  said.  "Old  H.  H.  wasn't 
born  yesterday.  It  may  have  struck  you  that  to  pos- 
sess the  sole  and  exclusive  knowledge  of  the  where- 
abouts of  a  million  or  two — ratin'  it  low — is  some 
considerable  of  an  asset.  And  it's  one  I  ain't  got  the 
least  idee  of  par  tin'  with  unless  for  inducements  held 
out." 

Aunt  Jane  gave  a  faint  shriek.  I  had  been 
silently  debating  what  my  own  course  should  be 
in  the  face  of  this  unexpected  development.  Sud- 
denly I  saw  my  way  quite  clear.  I  would  say 
nothing.  Mr.  Tubbs  should  reveal  his  own  per- 
fidy. And  the  curtain  should  ring  down  upon 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  203 

the  play,  leaving  Mr.  Tubbs  foiled  all  around, 
bereft  both  of  the  treasure  and  of  Aunt  Jane.  Oh, 
how  I  would  enjoy  the  farce  as  it  was  played  by  the 
unconscious  actors !  How  I  would  step  in  at  the  end 
to  reward  virtue  and  punish  guilt!  And  how  I 
would  point  the  moral,  later,  very  gently  to  Aunt 
Jane,  an  Aunt  Jane  all  penitence  and  docility ! 

Little  I  dreamed  what  surprises  ensuing  acts  of 
the  play  were  to  hold  for  me,  or  of  their  astounding 
contrast  with  the  farce  of  my  joyous  imagination. 

I  took  no  part  in  the  storm  that  raged  round  Mr. 
Tubbs.  It  is  said  that  in  the  heart  of  the  tempest 
there  is  calm,  and  this  great  truth  of  natural  philos- 
ophy Mr.  Tubbs  exemplified.  His  face  adorned  by 
a  seraphic,  buttery  smile,  he  stood  unmoved,  while 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne  uttered  cyclonic  exhorta- 
tions and  reproaches,  while  Aunt  Jane  sobbed  and 
said,  "Oh,  Mr.  Tubbs!"  while  Mr.  Shaw  strove  to 
make  himself  heard  above  the  din.  He  did  at  least 
succeed  in  extracting  from  the  traitor  a  definite 
statement  of  terms.  These  were  nothing  less  than 
fifty  per  cent,  of  the  treasure,  secured  to  him  by  a 
document  signed,  sealed  and  delivered  into  his  own 
hands.  To  a  suggestion  that  as  he  had  discovered 
the  all-important  tombstone  so  might  some  one  else, 


204  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

he  replied  with  tranquillity  that  he  thought  not,  as  he 
had  taken  precautions  against  such  an  eventuality. 
In  other  words,  as  I  was  later  to  discover,  the  wily 
Mr.  Tubbs  had  contrived  to  raise  the  boulder  from 
its  bed  and  push  it  over  the  cliff  into  the  sea,  after- 
ward replacing  the  mass  of  vines  upon  the  grave. 

As  to  the  entrance  to  the  tunnel,  it  was  apparent 
to  me  that  Mr.  Tubbs  had  not  yet  discovered  it. 
Even  if  he  had,  I  am  certain  that  he  would  have  been 
no  more  heroic  than  myself  about  exploring  it, 
though  there  was  no  missing  Peter  to  haunt  his 
imagination.  But  with  the  grave  as  a  starting-point, 
there  could  be  no  question  as  to  the  ultimate  dis- 
covery of  the  cave. 

I  was  so  eager  myself  to  see  the  inside  of  the 
cave,  and  to  know  whatever  it  had  to  reveal  of  the 
fate  of  Peter,  that  I  was  inclined  to  wish  Mr.  Tubbs 
success  in  driving  his  hard  bargain,  especially  as  it 
would  profit  him  nothing  in  the  end.  But  this  senti- 
ment was  exclusively  my  own.  On  all  hands  indig- 
nation greeted  the  rigorous  demands  of  Mr.  Tubbs. 
With  a  righteous  joy,  I  saw  the  fabric  of  Aunt 
Jane's  illusions  shaken  by  the  rude  blast  of  reality. 
Would  it  be  riven  quite  in  twain?  I  was  dubious, 
for  Aunt  Jane's  illusions  have  a  toughness  in  striking 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  205 

contrast  to  the  uncertain  nature  of  her  ideas  in  gen- 
eral. Darker  and  darker  disclosures  of  Mr.  Tubbs's 
perfidy  would  be  required.  But  judging  from  his 
present  recklessness,  they  would  be  forthcoming. 
For  where  was  the  Tubbs  of  yesterday — the  honey- 
tongued,  the  suave,  the  anxiously  obsequious  Tubbs? 
Gone,  quite  gone.  Instead,  here  was  a  Tubbs  who 
cocked  his  helmet  rakishly,  and  leered  round  upon 
the  company,  deaf  to  the  claims  of  loyalty,  the  pleas 
of  friendship,  the  voice  of  tenderness — Aunt  Jane's. 
Manfully  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  stormed  up  and 
down  the  beach.  She  demanded  of  Mr.  Shaw,  of 
Cuthbert  Vane,  of  Captain  Magnus,  each  and  sev- 
erally, that  Mr.  Tubbs  be  compelled  to  disgorge  his 
secret.  You  saw  that  she  would  not  have  shrunk 
from  a  regimen  of  racks  and  thumbscrews.  But 
there  were  no  racks  or  thumbscrews  on  the  island. 
Of  course  we  could  have  invented  various  in- 
struments of  torture — I  felt  I  could  have  devel- 
oped some  ingenuity  that  way  myself — but  too  fa- 
tally well  Mr.  Tubbs  knew  the  civilized  prejudices  of 
those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  With  perfect  im- 
punity he  coujd  strut  about  the  camp,  sure  that  no 
weapons  worse  than  words  would  be  brought  to 
bear  upon  him,  that  he  would  not  even  be  turned 


206  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

away  from  the  general  board  to  browse  on  cocoa- 
nuts  in  solitude. 

Long  ago  Mr.  Shaw  had  left  the  field  to  Violet 
and  with  a  curt  shrug  had  turned  his  back  and  stood 
looking  out  over  the  cove,  stroking  his  chin  reflect- 
ively. Miss  Browne's  eloquence  had  risen  to  amaz- 
ing flights,  and  she  already  had  Mr.  Tubbs  inex- 
tricably mixed  with  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  when 
the  Scotchman  broke  in  upon  her  ruthlessly. 

"Friends,"  he  said,  "so  far  as  I  can  see  we  have 
been  put  a  good  bit  ahead  by  this  morning's  work. 
First,  we  know  that  the  grave  which  should  be  our 
landmark  has  not  been  entirely  obliterated  by  the 
jungle,  as  I  had  thought  most  likely.  Second,  we 
know  that  it  is  on  this  side  of  the  island,  for  the  rea- 
son that  this  chap  Tubbs  hasn't  nerve  to  go  much  be- 
yond shouting  distance  by  himself.  Third,  as  Tubbs 
has  tried  this  hold-up  business  I  believe  we  should 
co.nsider  the  agreement  by  which  he  was  to  receive 
a  sixteenth  share  null  and  void,  and  decide  here  and 
now  that  he  gets  nothing  whatever.  Fourth,  the 
boat  is  now  pretty  well  to  rights,  and  as  soon  as  we 
have  a  snack  Bert  and  Magnus  and  I  will  set  out,  in 
twice  as  good  heart  as  before,  having  had  the  story 


MR.  TUBES  INTERRUPTS  207 

that  brought  us  here  confirmed  for  the  first  time. 
So  Tubbs  and  his  tombstone  can  go  to  thunder." 

"I  can,  can  I  ?"  cried  Mr.  Tubbs.  "Say,  are  you 
a  human  iceberg,  to  talk  that  cool  before  a  man's 
own  face?  Say,  I'll — " 

But  Cuthbert  Vane  broke  in. 

"Three  rousing  cheers,  old  boy !"  he  cried  to  the 
Scotchman  enthusiastically.  "Always  did  think  the 
chap  a  frightful  bounder,  don't  you  know?  We'll 
stand  by  old  Shaw,  won't  we,  Magnus?"  Which 
comradely  outbreak  showed  the  excess  of  the  beauti- 
ful youth's  emotions,  for  usually  he  turned  a  large 
cold  shoulder  on  the  captain,  though  managing  in 
some  mysterious  manner  to  be  perfectly  civil  all  the 
time.  Perhaps  you  have  to  be  born  at  High  Staun- 
ton  Manor  or  its  equivalent  to  possess  the  art  of  rele- 
gating people  to  immense  distances  without  seeming 
to  administer  even  the  gentlest  shove. 

But  unfortunately  the  effect  of  the  Honorable 
Cuthbert's  cordiality  was  lost,  so  far  as  the  object 
of  it  was  concerned,  because  of  the  surprising  fact, 
only  now  remarked  by  any  one,  that  Captain  Mag- 
nus had  disappeared. 


XV 

SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY 

THE  evanishment  of  Captain  Magnus,  though 
quite  unlocked  for  at  so  critical  a  moment, 
was  too  much  in  keeping  with  his  eccentric  and  un- 
social ways  to  arouse  much  comment.  Everybody 
looked  about  with  mild  ejaculations  of  surprise,  and 
then  forgot  about  the  matter. 

Whistling  a  Scotch  tune,  Dugald  Shaw  set  to  work 
again  on  the  boat.  In  the  face  of  difficulty  or  oppo- 
sition he  always  grew  more  brisk  and  cheerful.  I 
used  to  wonder  whether  in  the  event  of  a  tornado 
he  would  not  warm  into  positive  geniality.  Perhaps 
it  would  not  have  needed  a  tornado,  if  I  had  not  be- 
gun by  suspecting  him  of  conspiring  against  Aunt 
Jane's  pocket,  or  if  the  Triumvirate,  inspired  by  Mr. 
Tubbs,  had  not  sat  in  gloomy  judgment  on  his  every 
movement.  Or  if  he  hadn't  been  reproached  so  for 
saving  me  from  the  cave,  instead  of  leaving  it  to 
Cuthbert  Vane — 

208 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        209 

But  now  under  the  stimulus  of  speaking  his  mind 
about  Mr.  Tubbs  the  Scotchman  whistled  as  he 
worked,  and  slapped  the  noble  youth  affectionately 
on  the  back  when  he  came  and  got  in  the  way  with 
anxious  industry. 

As  I  wanted  to  observe  developments — a  very 
necessary  thing  when  you  are  playing  Providence — 
I  chose  a  central  position  in  the  shade  and  pulled 
out  some  very  smudgy  tatting,  a  sort  of  Penelope's 
web  which  there  was  no  prospect  of  my  ever  com- 
pleting, but  which  served  admirably  to  give  me  an 
appearance  of  occupation  at  critical  moments. 

Mr.  Tubbs  also  had  sought  a  shady  spot  and  was 
fanning  himself  with  his  helmet.-  From  time  to  time 
he  hummed,  in  a  manner  determinedly  gay.  How- 
ever he  might  disguise  it  from  himself,  this  time  Mr. 
Tubbs  had  overshot  his  mark.  In  the  first  thrill  of 
his  great  discovery  he  had  thought  the  game  was  in 
his  hands.  He  had  looked  for  an  instant  capitula- 
tion. 

The  truth  was,  since  our  arrival  on  the  island  Mr. 
Tubbs  had  felt  himself  the  spoiled  child  of  fortune. 
Aunt  Jane  and  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  were  the 
joint  commanders  of  the  expedition,  and  he  com- 
manded them.  The  Scotchman's  theoretical  rank 


210  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

as  leader  had  involved  merely  the  acceptance  of  all 
the  responsibility  and  blame,  while  authority  rested 
with  the  petticoat  government  dominated  by  the 
bland  and  wily  Tubbs. 

Had  Mr.  Tubbs  but  continued  bland  and  wily, 
had  he  taken  his  fair  confederates  into  his  counsels, 
who  knows  how  fat  a  share  of  the  treasure  they 
might  have  voted  him.  But  he  had  abandoned  his 
safe  nook  behind  the  throne,  and  sought  to  come  out 
into  the  open  as  dictator.  Sic  semper  tyrannis.  So 
had  the  mighty  fallen. 

Faced  with  the  failure  of  his  coup  d'etat,  Mr. 
Tubbs's  situation  was,  to  say  the  least,  awkward. 
He  had  risked  all,  and  lost  it.  But  he  maintained  an 
air  of  jaunty  self-confidence,  slightly  tinged  with 
irony.  It  was  all  very  well,  he  seemed  to  im- 
ply, for  us  to  try  to  get  along  without  H.  H.  We 
would  discover  the  impossibility  of  it  soon  enough. 

Aunt  Jane,  drooping,  had  been  led  away  to  the 
cabin  by  Miss  Higglesby-Browne.  You  now  heard 
the  voice  of  Violet  in  exhortation,  mingled  with 
Aunt  Jane's  sobs.  I  seemed  to  see  that  an  ear  of 
Mr.  Tubbs  was  cocked  attentively  in  that  direction. 
He  had  indeed  erred  in  the  very  wantonness  of  tri- 
umph, for  a  single  glance  would  have  kept  Aunt 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        211 

Jane  loyal  and  prodigal  of  excuses  for  him  in  the 
face  of  any  treachery.  Not  even  Violet  could  have 
clapped  the  lid  on  the  up-welling  fount  of  sentiment 
in  Aunt  Jane's  heart.  Only  the  cold  contemning  eye 
of  H.  H.  himself  had  congealed  that  tepid  flood. 

The  morning  wore  on  with  ever-increasing  heat, 
and  as  nothing  happened  I  began  to  find  my  watch- 
ful waiting  dull.  Crusoe,  worn  out  perhaps  by 
some  private  nocturnal  pig-hunt,  slept  heavily  where 
the  drip  of  the  spring  over  the  brim  of  old  Heintz's 
kettle  cooled  the  air.  Aunt  Jane's  sobs  had  ceased, 
and  only  a  low  murmur  of  voices  came  from  the 
cabin.  I  began  to  consider  whether  it  would  not  be 
well  to  take  a  walk  with  Cuthbert  Vane  and  discover 
the  tombstone  all  over  again.  I  knew  nothing,  of 
course,  of  Mr.  Tubbs's  drastic  measures  with  the 
celebrated  landmark.  As  to  Cuthbert's  interrupted 
courtship,  I  depended  on  the  vast  excitement  of  dis- 
covering the  cave  to  distract  his  mind  from  it.  For 
that  was  the  idea,  of  course — Cuthbert  Vane  and  I 
would  explore  the  cave,  and  then  whenever  I  liked 
I  could  prick  the  bubble  of  Mr.  Tubbs's  ambitions, 
without  relating  the  whole  strange  story  of  the  diary 
and  the  Island  Queen.  I  was  immensely  pleased  al- 
ready by  the  elimination  of  Mr.  Tubbs  from  the 


212  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

number  of  those  who  need  have  a  finger  in  the 
golden  pie.  I  thought  that  perhaps  with  time  and 
patience  I  might  coax  events  to  play  still  further 
into  my  hand. 

But  meanwhile  the  cave  drew  me  like  a  magnet. 
I  jealously  desired  to  be  the  first  to  see  it,  to  snatch 
from  Mr.  Tubbs  the  honors  of  discovery.  And  I 
wanted  to  know  about  poor  Peter — and  the  doub- 
loons that  he  had  gone  back  to  fetch. 

But  already  Captain  Magnus  had  forsaken  the 
post  of  duty  and  departed  on  an  unknown  errand. 
Could  I  ask  Cuthbert  Vane  to  do  it,  too?  And  then 
I  smiled  a  smile  that  was  half  proud.  I  might  ask 
him — but  he  would  refuse  me.  In  Cuthbert's  sim- 
ple code,  certain  things  were  "done,"  certain  others 
not.  Among  the  nots  was  to  fail  in  standing  by  a 
friend.  And  just  now  Cuthbert  was  standing  by 
Dugald  Shaw.  Therefore  nods  and  becks  and 
wreathed  smiles  were  vain.  In  Cuthbert's  quiet, 
easy-mannered,  thick-headed  way  he  could  turn  his 
back  calmly  on  the  face  of  love  and  follow  the  harsh 
call  of  duty  even  to  death.  It  would  not  occur  to 
him  not  to.  And  he  never  would  suspect  himself  of 
being  a  hero — that  would  be  quite  the  nicest  part 
of  it. 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        213 

And  yet  I  knew  poor  Cuthbert  was  an  exploded 
superstition,  an  anachronism,  part  of  a  vanishing 
order  of  things,  and  that  the  ideal  which  was  re- 
placing him  was  a  boiler-plated  monster  with  clock- 
work heart  and  brain,  named  Efficiency.  And  that 
Cuthbert  must  go,  along  with  his  Jacobean  manor, 
and  his  family  ghost,  and  the  oaks  in  the  park,  and 
everything  else  that  couldn't  prove  its  right  to  live 
except  by  being  fine  and  lovely  and  full  of  garnered 
sweetness  of  the  past — 

At  this  point  in  my  meditations  the  door  of  the 
cabin  opened  and  Miss  Browne  came  out,  looking 
sternly  resolute.  Aunt  Jane  followed,  very  pink 
about  the  eyes  and  nose.  She  threw  an  anxious  flut- 
tering glance  at  Mr.  Tubbs,  who  sat  up  briskly,  and 
in  a  nervous  manner  polished  with  a  large  bandana 
that  barren  zone,  his  cranium,  which  looked  torrid 
enough  to  scorch  the  very  feet  of  the  flies  that 
walked  on  it.  It  was  clear  that  on  the  lips  of  Miss 
Browne  there  hovered  some  important  announce- 
ment, which  might  well  be  vital  to  the  fortunes  of 
Mr.  Tubbs. 

With  a  commanding  gesture  Miss  Browne  sig- 
naled the  rest  to  approach.  Mr.  Tubbs  bounced  up 
with  alacrity.  Mr.  Shaw  and  Cuthbert  obeyed  less 


214  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

promptly,  but  they  obeyed.  Meanwhile  Violet 
waited,  looking  implacable  as  fate. 

"And  where  is  Captain  Magnus?"  she  demanded, 
glancing  about  her. 

But  no  one  knew  what  had  become  of  Captain 
Magnus. 

As  for  myself,  I  continued  to  sit  in  the  shade  and 
tat.  But  I  could  hear  with  ease  all  that  was  said. 

"Mr.  Tubbs,"  began  Miss  Browne,  "your  recent 
claims  have  been  matter  of  prolonged  consideration 
between  Miss  Harding  and  myself.  We  feel — we 
can  not  but  feel — that  there  was  a  harshness  in  your 
announcement  of  them,  an  apparent  concentration 
on  your  own  interests,  ill  befitting  a  member  of  this 
expedition.  Also,  that  in  actual  substance,  they 
were  excessive.  Not  half,  Mr.  Tubbs;  oh,  no,  not 
half !  But  one-quarter,  Miss  Harding  and  myself,  as 
the  joint  heads  of  the  Harding-Browne  expedition, 
are  inclined  to  think  no  more  than  the  reward  which 
is  your  due.  We  suggest,  therefore,  a  simple  way 
out  of  the  difficulty.  Mr.  Dugald  Shaw  was  en- 
gaged on  liberal  terms  to  find  the  treasure.  He  has 
not  found  the  treasure.  He  has  not  found  the  slight- 
est clue  to  its  present  whereabouts.  Mr.  Tubbs,  on 
the  contrary,  has  found  a  clue.  It  is  a  clue  of  the 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        215 

first  importance.  It  is  equivalent  almost  to  the  ac- 
tual discovery  of  the  chest.  Therefore  let  Mr. 
Shaw,  convinced  I  am  sure  by  this  calm  presentation 
of  the  matter  of  the  justice  of  such  a  course,  resign 
his  claim  to  a  fourth  share  of  the  treasure  in  favor 
of  Mr.  Hamilton  H.  Tubbs,  and  agree  to  receive  in- 
stead the  former  allotment  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  namely, 
one-sixteenth." 

Having  offered  this  remarkable  suggestion,  Miss 
Browne  folded  her  arms  and  waited  for  it  to  bear 
fruit. 

It  did — in  the  enthusiastic  response  of  Mr.  Tubbs. 
Having  already  played  his  highest  trump  and  missed 
the  trick,  he  now  found  himself  with  an  entirely 
fresh  hand  dealt  to  him  by  the  obliging  Miss  Hig- 
glesby-Browne.  The  care  in  his  countenance  yielded 
to  beaming  smiles. 

"Well,  well !"  he  exclaimed.  "To  think  of  your 
takin'  old  H.  H.  that  literal!  O'  course,  havin' 
formed  my  habits  in  the  financial  centers  of  the 
country,  I  named  a  stiff  price  at  first — a  stiff  price, 
I  won't  deny.  But  that's  jest  the  leetle  way  of  a 
man  used  to  handlin'  large  affairs — nothin'  else  to  it, 
I  do  assure  you.  The  Old  Man  himself  used  to  say, 
There's  old  H.  H.— you'd  think  he'd  eat  the  paint 


216  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

off  a  house,  he'll  show  up  that  graspin'  in  a  deal. 
And  all  the  time  it's  jest  love  of  the  game.  Let  him 
know  he's  goin'  to  win  out,  and  bless  you,  old  H.  H. 
will  swing  right  round  and  fair  force  the  profits  on 
the  other  party.  H.  H.  is  slicker  than  soap  to  handle, 
if  only  you  handle  him  right.'  Can  I  say  without 
hard  feelin's  that  jest  now  H.  H.  was  not  handled 
right?  Instead  o'  bein'  joshed  with,  as  he  looked  for, 
he  was  took  up  short,  and  even  them  which  he  might 
have  expected  to  show  confidence" — here  Mr. 
Tubbs  cast  a  reproachful  eye  at  Aunt  Jane — "run 
off  with  the  notion  that  he  meant  jest  what  he  said. 
All  he'd  done  for  this  expedition,  his  loyalty  and 
faith  to  same,  was  forgotten,  and  he  was  thought  of 
as  a  self-seeker  and  Voracious  Shark !"  The  pain  of 
these  recollections  dammed  the  torrent  of  Mr. 
Tubbs' 9  speech. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Tubbs!"  breathed  Aunt  Jane  heart- 
brokenly,  and  of  course  a  tear  trickled  gently  down 
her  nose,  following  the  path  of  many  previous  tears 
which  had  already  left  their  saline  traces. 

Mr.  Tubbs  managed  in  some  impossible  fashion 
to  roll  one  eye  tenderly  at  Aunt  Jane,  while  keeping 
the  other  fastened  shrewdly  on  the  remainder  of  his 
audience. 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        217 

"Miss  Higglesby-Browne  and  Miss  Jane  Hard- 
ing," he  resumed,  "I  accept.  It  would  astonish 
them  as  has  only  known  H.  H.  on  his  financial  side 
to  see  him  agree  to  a  reduction  of  profits  like  this 
without  a  kick.  But  I'm  a  man  of  impulse,  I  am. 
Get  me  on  my  soft  side  and  a  kitten  ain't  more  im- 
pulsive than  old  H.  H.  And  o'  course  the  business 
of  this  expedition  ain't  jest  business  to  me.  It's — er 
— friendship,  and — er — sentiment — in  short,  there's 
feelin's  that  is  more  than  worth  their  weight  in 
gold!" 

At  these  significant  words  the  agitation  of  Aunt 
Jane  was  extreme.  Was  it  possible  that  Mr.  Tubbs 
was  declaring  himself  in  the  presence  of  others — and 
was  a  response  demanded  from  herself — would  his 
sensitive  nature,  so  lately  wounded  by  cruel  suspi- 
cion, interpret  her  silence  as  fatal  to  his  hopes  ?  But 
while  she  struggled  between  maiden  shyness  and  the 
fear  of  crushing  Mr.  Tubbs  the  conversation  had 
swept  on. 

"Mr.  Shaw,"  said  Miss  Browne,  "you  have  heard 
Mr.  Tubbs,  in  the  interest  of  the  expedition,  liberally 
consent  to  reduce  his  claim  by  one-half.  Doubtless, 
if  only  in  a  spirit  of  emulation,  you  will  attempt  to 
match  this  conduct  by  canceling  our  present  agree- 


218  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

ment  and  consenting  to  another  crediting  you  with 
the  former  sixteenth  share  of  Mr.  Tubbs." 

"Don't  do  it,  Shaw — hold  the  fort,  old  boy!" 
broke  in  Cuthbert  Vane.  "I  say,  Miss  Browne,  this 
is  a  bally  shame !" 

Miss  Browne  had  always  treated  the  prospective 
Lord  Grasmere  with  distinguished  politeness.  Even 
now  her  air  was  mild  though  lofty. 

"Mr.  Vane,  I  must  beg  leave  to  remind  you  that 
the  object  of  this  expedition  was  yet  unattained 
when  Mr.  Tubbs,  by  following  clues  ignored  by 
others,  brought  success  within  our  reach.  Mr. 
Dugald  Shaw  having  conspicuously  failed — " 

"Failed!"  repeated  Cuthbert,  with  unprecedented 
energy.  "Failed !  I  say,  that's  too  bad  of  you,  Miss 
Browne.  Wasn't  everybody  here  a  lot  keener  than 
old  Shaw  about  mucking  in  that  silly  cave  where 
those  Johnnies  would  have  had  hard  work  to  bury 
anything  unless  they  were  mermaids  ?  Didn't  the  old 
chap  risk  his  neck  a  dozen  times  a  day  while  this 
Christopher  Columbus  stayed  high  and  dry  ashore  ? 
Suppose  he  did  find  the  tombstone  by  stubbing  his 
silly  toes  on  it — so  far  he  hasn't  found  the  cave, 
much  less  the  box  of  guineas  or  whatever  those  for- 
eign chaps  call  their  money.  Let  Mr.  Tubbs  go  sit 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        219 

on  the  tombstone  if  he  likes.  Shaw  and  I  can  find 
the  cave  quite  on  our  own,  can't  we,  Shaw  ?" 

"Mr.  Vane,"  replied  the  still  deferential  Violet, 
"as  a  member  of  the  British  aristocracy,  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed  that  you  would  view  financial  matters 
with  the  same  eye  as  those  of  us  of  the  Middle 
Classes,  who,  unhappily  perhaps  for  our  finer  feel- 
ings, have  been  obliged  to  experience  the  harsh  con- 
tacts of  common  life.  Your  devotion  to  Mr.  Shaw 
has  a  romantic  ardor  which  I  can  not  but  admire. 
But  permit  us  also  our  enthusiasm  for  the  perspica- 
city of  Mr.  Tubbs,  to  which  we  owe  the  wealth  now 
within  our  grasp." 

Mr.  Shaw  now  spoke  for  the  first  time. 

"Miss  Browne,  I  do  not  recognize  the  justice  of 
your  standpoint  in  this  matter.  I  have  done  and  am 
still  prepared  to  do  my  best  in  this  business  of  the 
treasure.  If  Mr.  Tubbs  will  not  give  his  informa- 
tion except  for  a  bribe,  I  say — let  him  keep  it.  We 
are  no  worse  off  without  it  than  we  were  before,  and 
you  were  then  confident  of  success.  My  intention, 
ma'am,  is  to  hold  you  to  our  original  agreement.  I 
shall  continue  the  search  for  the  treasure  on  the 
same  lines  as  at  present." 

"One  moment,"  said  Miss  Browne  haughtily.  She 


220  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

had  never  spoken  otherwise  than  haughtily  to  Mr. 
Shaw  since  the  episode  of  the  Wise  Woman  of 
Dumbiedykes.  "One  moment,  Jane — and  you,  Mr. 
Tubbs— " 

She  drew  them  aside,  and  they  moved  off  out  of 
earshot,  where  they  stood  with  their  backs  to  us  and 
their  heads  together. 

It  was  my  opportunity.  Violet  herself  had  pro- 
posed that  the  original  agreement — the  agreement 
which  bound  me  to  ask  for  no  share  of  the  treasure 
— should  be  canceled.  Nothing  now  was  necessary 
to  the  ripening  of  my  hopes  but  to  induce  Dugald 
Shaw  to  immolate  himself.  Would  he  do  so — on 
my  bare  word  ?  There  was  no  time  to  explain  any- 
thing— he  must  trust  me. 

I  sprang  up  and  dashed  over  to  the  pair  who  stood 
looking  gloomily  out  to  sea.  They  turned  in  surprise 
and  stared  down,  the  two  big  men,  into  my  flushed 
up-tilted  face. 

"Mr.  Shaw,"  I  whispered  quickly,  "you  must  do 
as  Miss  Browne  wishes."  In  my  earnestness  I  laid 
a  hand  upon  his  arm.  He  regarded  me  bewilderedly. 

"You  must — you  must!"  I  urged.  "You'll  spoil 
everything  if  you  refuse!" 

The  surprise  in  his  face  yielded  to  a  look  com- 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        221 

posed  of  many  elements,  but  which  was  mainly  hard 
and  bitter. 

"And  still  I  shall  refuse,"  he  said  sardonically. 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  I  implored,  "you  don't  understand ! 
I — oh,  if  you  would  only  believe  that  I  am  your 
friend!" 

His  face  changed  subtly.  It  was  still  questioning 
and  guarded,  but  with  a  softening  in  it,  too. 

"Why  don't  you  believe  it?"  I  whispered  un- 
steadily. "Do  you  forget  that  I  owe  you  my  life?" 

And  at  the  recollection  of  that  day  in  the  sea-cave 
the  scarlet  burned  in  my  cheeks  and  my  head 
drooped.  But  I  saw  how  the  lines  about  his*  mouth 
relaxed.  "Surely  you  must  know  that  I  would 
repay  you  if  I  could!"  I  hurried  on.  "And  not  by 
— treachery." 

He  laughed  suddenly.  "Treachery?  No!  I  think 
you  would  always  be  an  open  foe." 

"Indeed  I  would !"  I  answered  with  a  flash  of 
wrath.  Then,  as  I  remembered  the  need  of  haste,  I 
spoke  in  an  intense  quick  whisper.  "Listen — I  can't 
explain,  there  isn't  time.  I  can  only  ask  you  to  trust 
me — to  agree  to  what  Miss  Browne  wishes.  Every- 
thing— you  don't  dream  how  much — depends  on  it !" 
For  I  felt  that  I  would  let  the  treasure  lie  hidden  in 


222  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  Island  Queen  forever  rather  than  that  Mr. 
Tubbs  should,  under  the  original  contract,  claim  a 
share  of  it. 

The  doubt  had  quite  left  his  face. 

"I  do  trust  you,  little  Virginia,"  he  said  gently. 
"Yes,  I  trust  in  your  honesty,  heaven  knows,  child. 
But  permit  me  to  question  your  wisdom  in  desiring 
to  enrich  our  friend  Tubbs." 

"Enrich  him — enrich  him!  The  best  I  wish  him 
is  unlimited  gruel  in  an  almshouse  somewhere.  No ! 
What  I  want  is  to  get  that  wretched  paper  of  Miss 
Browne's  nullified.  Afterward  we  can  divide  things 
up  as  we  like — " 

Bewilderment,  shot  with  a  gleam  of  half-incredu- 
lous understanding,  seemed  to  transfix  him.  We 
stood  a  long  moment,  our  eyes  challenging  each 
other,  exchanging  their  countersign  of  faith  and 
steadfastness.  Then  slowly  he  held  out  his  hand.  I 
laid  mine  in  it-^-we  stood  hand  in  hand,  comrades  at 
last.  Without  more  words  he  turned  away  and 
strode-  over  to  the  council  of  three. 

I  now  became  aware  of  Cuthbert  Vane,  whom 
perplexity  had  carried  far  beyond  the  bounds  of 
speech  and  imprisoned  in  a  sort  of  torpor.  He  was 
showing  faint  symptoms  of  revival,  and  had  got  as 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        223 

far  as  "I  say — ?"  uttered  in  the  tone  of  one  who 
finds  himself  moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized, 
when  the  near-by  group  dissolved  and  moved  rapidly 
toward  us.  Miss  Browne,  exultant,  beaming,  was  in 
the  van.  She  set  her  substantial  feet  down  like  a 
charger  pawing  the  earth.  You  might  almost  have 
said  that  Violet  pranced.  Aunt  Jane  was  round- 
eyed  and  twittering.  Mr.  Tubbs  wore  a  look  of  sup- 
pressed astonishment,  almost  of  perturbation. 
What's-  his  game?  was  the  question  in  the  sophisti- 
cated eye  of  Mr.  Tubbs.  But  the  Scotchman  had 
when  he  chose  a  perfect  poker  face.  The  great 
game  of  bluff  would  have  suited  him  to  a  nicety. 
Mr.  Tubbs  interrogated  that  inexpressive  counte- 
nance in  vain, 

Miss  Browne  advanced  on  Cuthbert  Vane  and 
seized  both  his  hands  in  an  ardent  clasp. 

"Mr.  Vane,"  she  said  with  solemnity,  "I  thank 
you — in  the  name  of  this  expedition  I  thank  you — 
for  the  influence  you  have  exerted  upon  your 
friend !" 

And  this  seemed  to  be  to  the  noble  youth  the  most 
stunning  of  all  the  shocks  of  that  eventful  morning. 

Now  came  the  matter  of  drawing  up  the  new 
agreement.  It  was  a  canny  Scot  indeed  who,  acting 


224  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

on  the  hint  I  had  just  given  him,  finally  settled  its 
terms.  In  the  first  place,  the  previous  agreement 
was  declared  null  and  void.  In  the  second,  Mr. 
Tubbs  was  to  have  his  fourth  only  if  the  treasure 
were  discovered  through  his  direct  agency.  And  it 
was  under  this  condition  and  no  other  that  Dugald 
Shaw  bound  himself  to  relinquish  his  original  claim. 
Virginia  Harding  signed  a  new  renunciatory  clause, 
but  it  bore  only  on  treasure  discovered  by  Mr. 
Tubbs.  Indeed,  the  entire  contract  was  of  force  only 
if  Mr.  Tubbs  fulfilled  his  part  of  it,  and  fell  to  pieces 
if  he  did  not.  Which  was  exactly  what  I  wanted. 

Miss  Browne  and  Mr.  Tubbs  demurred  a  little  at 
the*  wording  on  which  Mr.  Shaw  insisted,  but  Mr. 
Tubbs's  confidence  in  the  infallibility  of  the  tomb- 
stone was  so  great  that  no  real  objection  was  inter- 
posed. No  difficulty  was  made  of  the  absence  of 
Captain  Magnus,  as  his  interests  were  unaffected  by 
the  change.  Space  was  left  for  his  signature.  Mine 
came  last  of  all,  as  that  of  a  mere  interloper  and 
hanger-on.  I  added  it  and  handed  the  paper  de- 
murely across  to  Violet,  who  consigned  it  to  an  ap- 
parently bottomless  pocket.  Copies  were  to  be  made 
after  lunch. 

My  demonstrations  of  joy  at  this  happy  issue  of 


SOME  SECRET  DIPLOMACY        225 

my  hopes  had  to  be  confined  to  a  smile — in  which 
for  a  startled  instant  Violet  had  seemed  to  sense  the 
triumph.  It  was  still  on  my  lips  as  with  a  general 
movement  we  rose  from  the  table  about  which  we 
had  been  grouped  during  the  absorbing  business  of 
drawing  up  the  contract.  Cookie  had  been  clamor- 
ing for  us  to  leave,  that  he  might  spread  the  table 
for  lunch.  I  had  opened  my  mouth  to  call  to  him, 
"All  right,  Cookie!"  when  a  shrill  volley  of  barks 
from  Crusoe  shattered  the  stillness  of  the  drowsy 
air.  In  the  same  instant  the  voice  of  Cookie,  raised 
to  a  sharp  note  of  alarm,  rang  through  the  camp: 
"M.y  Gawd,  what  all  dis  yere  mean?" 
I  turned,  to  look  into  the  muzzle  of  a  rifle. 


XVI 

LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST 

FIVE  men  had  emerged  from  the  woods  behind 
the  clearing,  so  quietly  that  they  were  in  the 
center  of  the  camp  before  Crusoe's  shrill  bark,  or  the 
outcry  of  the  cook,  warned  us  of  their  presence.  By 
that  time  they  had  us  covered.  Three  of  them  car- 
ried rifles,  the  other  two  revolvers.  One  of  these 
was  Captain  Magnus. 

Advancing  a  step  or  two  before  the  others  he 
ordered  us  to  throw  up  our  hands.  Perhaps  he. 
meant  only  the  men — but  my  hands  and  Aunt  Jane's 
and  Miss  Higglesby-Browne's  also  went  up  with 
celerity.  He  grinned  into  our  astounded  faces  with 
a  wolfish  baring  of  his  yellow  teeth. 

"Never  guessed  I  wasn't  here  jest  to  do  the  shovel 
work,  but  might  have  my  own  little  side-show  to 
bring  off,  hey?"  he  inquired  of  no  one  in  particular. 
"Here,  Slinker,  help  me  truss  'em  up." 

The  man  addressed  thrust  his  pistol  in  his  belt  and 
came  forward,  and  with  his  help  the  hands  of  the 
226 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     227 

Scotchman,  Cuthbert  Vane  and  Mr.  Tubbs  were  se- 
curely tied.  They  were  searched  for  arms,  and  the 
sheath-knives  which  Mr.  Shaw  and  Cuthbert  carried 
at  their  belts  were  taken  away.  The  three  prisoners 
were  then  ordered  to  seat  themselves  in  a  row  on  the 
trunk  of  a  prostrate  palm. 

The  whole  thing  had  happened  in  the  strangest 
silence.  Except  for  a  feeble  moaning  from  Aunt 
Jane,  like  the  bleating  of  a  sheep,  which  broke  forth 
at  intervals,  nobody  spoke  or  made  a  sound.  The 
three  riflemen  in  the  background,  standing  like  im- 
ages with  their  weapons  raised,  looked  like  a  well- 
trained  chorus  in  an  opera. 

And  indeed  it  was  all  extraordinarily  like  some- 
thing on  a  stage.  Slinker,  for  instance.  He  had  a 
prowling,  sidelong  fashion  of  moving  about,  and 
enormous  yellow  mustaches  like  a  Viking.  Surely 
some  artist  in  the  make-up  line  had  invented 
Slinker!  And  the  burly  fellow  in  the  background, 
with  the  black  whiskers — too  bad  he'd  forgotten  his 
earrings — 

But  I  awoke  to  the  horrid  reality  of  it  all  as  Cap- 
tain Magnus,  smiling  his  wolfish  smile,  turned  and 
approached  me. 

"Well,  boys,"  he  remarked  to  his  followers,  who 


228  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

had  now  lowered  their  weapons  and  were  standing 
about  at  ease,  "here's  the  little  pippin  I  was  tellin' 
of.  'Fraid  we  give  her  a  little  scare  bustin'  in  so  sud- 
den, so  she  ain't  quite  so  bright  and  smilin'  as  I  like 
to  see.  It's  all  right,  girlie;  you'll  soon  cheer  up 
when  you  find  out  you're  goin*  to  be  the  little  queen 
o'  this  camp.  Things  will  be  all  your  way  now — so 
long  as  you  treat  me  right."  And  the  abominable 
creature  thrust  forth  a  hairy  paw  and  deliberately 
chucked  me  under  the  chin. 

I  heard  a  roar  from  the  log — and  coincidently 
from  Captain  Magnus.  For  with  the  instant  re- 
sponse of  an  automaton — consciously  I  had  nothing 
at  all  to  do  with  it — I  had  reached  up  and  briskly 
boxed  the  captain's  ears. 

Furiously  he  caught  my  wrist.  "Ah,  you  red- 
headed little  devil,  you'll  pay  for  this !  I  ain't  pretty, 
oh,  no!  I  ain't  a  handsome  mooncalf  like  the  Hon- 
orable ;  I  ain't  got  a  title,  nor  girly  pink  cheeks,  nor 
fine  gentleman  ways.  No  walks  with  the  likes  o'  me, 
no  tatey-tates  in  the  woods — oh,  no !  Well,  it's  goin' 
to  be  another  story  now,  girlie.  I  guess  you  can 
learn  to  like  my  looks,  with  a  little  help  from  my  fist 
now  and  then,  jest  as  well  as  you  done  the  Honor- 
able's.  I  guess  it  won't  be  long  before  I  have  you 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     229 

crawlin'  on  your  knees  to  me  for  a  word  o'  kind- 
ness. I  guess — " 

"Aw,  stow  that  soft  stuff,  Magnus,"  advised 
Slinker.  "You  can  do  your  spoonin'  with  the  gal 
later  on.  We're  here  to  git  that  gold,  and  don't 
you  forget  it.  Plenty  o'  time  afterwards  to  spark 
the  wimmen." 

"That's  the  talk,"  chimed  in  Blackbeard.  "Don't 
run  us  on  a  lee  shore  for  the  sake  of  a  skirt.  Skirts 
is  thicker'n  herring  in  every  port,  ain't  they  ?" 

"I  got  a  score  to  settle  with  this  one,"  growled 
Magnus  sullenly,  but  his  grasp  loosened  on  my  arm, 
and  I  slipped  from  him  and  fled  to  Aunt  Jane — yes, 
to  Aunt  Jane — and  clung  to  her  convulsively.  The 
poor  little  woman  was  crying,  of  course,  making  a 
low  inarticulate  whimper  like  a  frightened  child. 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne  seemed  to  have  petrified. 
Her  skin  had  a  withered  look,  and  a  fine  network  of 
lines  showed  on  it,  suddenly  clear,  like  a  tracery  on 
parchment.  Beyond  her  I  saw  the  face  of  Dugald 
Shaw,  gray  with  a  steely  wrath.  A  gun  had  been 
trained  anew  on  him  and  Cuthbert,  and  the  bearer 
thereof  was  arguing  with  them  profanely.  I  sup- 
pose the  prisoners  had  threatened  outbreak  at  the 
spectacle  of  the  chin-chucking. 


230  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

No  one  had  bothered  to  secure  Cookie,  and  he 
knelt  among  the  pots  and  pans  of  his  open-air 
kitchen,  pouring  forth  petitions  in  a  steady  stream. 
Blackbeard,  who  seemed  a  jovial  brute,  burst  into  a 
loud  guffaw. 

"Ha,  ha!  Look  at  old  Soot-and-Cinders  gittin' 
hisself  ready  for  glory!"  He  approached  the  negro 
and  aimed  at  him  a  kick  which  Cookie,  arising  with 
unexpected  nimbleness,  contrived  to  dodge.  "Looky 
here,  darky,  git  busy  dishin'  up  the  grub,  will  you? 
I  could  stand  one  good  feed  after  the  forecastle 
slops  we  been  livin'  on." 

Blackbeard,  whom  his  companions  addressed  in- 
discriminately as  "Captain,"  or  "Tony,"  seemed  to 
exercise  a  certain  authority.  He  went  over  to  the 
prisoners  on  the  log  and  inspected  their  bonds. 

"You'll  do ;  can't  git  loose  nohow,"  he  announced. 
Then,  with  a  savage  frown,  "But  no  monkey  busi- 
ness. First  o'  that  I  see,  it's  a  dose  o'  cold  lead  for 
youse,  savvy?" 

He  turned  to  us  women. 

"Well,  chickabiddies,  we  ain't  treated  you  harsh, 
I  hope?  Now  I  don't  care  about  tyin'  youse  up,  in 
case  we  can  help  it,  so  jest  be  good  girls,  and  I'll  let 
youse  run  around  loose  for  a  while." 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     231 

But  Magnus  struck  in  with  an  oath. 

"Loose?  You're  turnin'  soft,  I  say.  The  future 
Mrs.  M.  there — which  I  mean  to  make  her  if  she  be- 
haves right — she's  a  handful,  she  is.  There  ain't  no 
low  trick  she  won't  play  on  us  if  she  gets  the  chance. 
Better  tie  her  up,  I  say." 

"Magnus,"  responded  Tony  with  severity,  "it'd 
make  a  person  think  to  hear  you  talk  that  you  wasn't 
no  gentleman.  If  you  can't  keep  little  Red-top  in 
order  without  you  tie  her,  why,  then  hand  her  over 
to  a  guy  what  can.  I  bet  I  wouldn't  have  a  speck  o' 
trouble  with  her — her  and  me  would  git  along  as 
sweet  as  two  turtle-doves." 

"You  dry  up,  Tony,"  said  Magnus,  lowering. 
"I'll  look  after  my  own  affairs  of  the  heart.  Any- 
way, here's  them  two  old  hens  what  have  been 
makin'  me  sick  with  their  jabber  and  nonsense  all 
these  weeks.  Ain't  I  goin'  to  have  a  chance  to  get 
square  ?" 

"Here,  youse!"  struck  in  Slinker,  "quit  your 
jawin' !  Here's  a  feed  we  ain't  seen  the  like  of  in 
weeks." 

Tony  thereupon  ordered  the  women  to  sit  down 
on  the  ground  in  the  shade  and  not  move  under  pen- 
alty of  "gettin'  a  wing  clipped."  We  obeyed  in  si- 


232  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

lence  and  looked  on  while  the  pirates  with  wolfish 
voracity  devoured  the  meal  which  had  been  meant 
for  us.  They  had  pocket-flasks  with  them,  and  as 
they  attacked  them  with  frequency  the  talk  grew 
louder  and  wilder.  By  degrees  it  was  possible  to 
comprehend  the  extraordinary  disaster  which  had 
befallen  us,  at  least  in  a  sketchy  outline  of  which  the 
detail  was  filled  in  later.  Tony,  it  appeared,  was  the 
master  of  a  small  power-schooner  which  had  been 
fitting  out  in  San  Francisco  for  a  filibustering  trip 
to  the  Mexican  coast.  His  three  companions  were 
the  crew.  None  was  of  the  old  hearty  breed 
of  sailors,  but  wharf-rats  pure  and  simple,  city- 
dregs  whom  chance  had  led  to  follow  the  sea. 
Tony,  in  whom  one  detected  a  certain  rough  force 
and  ability,  was  an  Italian,  an  outlaw  specimen  of 
the  breed  which  mans  the  fishing  fleet  putting  forth 
from  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco.  When  and 
where  he  and  Magnus  had  been  friends  I  do  not 
know.  But  no  sooner  had  the  wisdom  of  Miss 
Browne  imparted  the  great  secret  to  her  chance  ac- 
quaintance of  the  New  York  wharves,  than  he  had 
communicated  with  his  old  pal  Tony.  The  power- 
schooner  with  her  unlawful  cargo  stole  out  through 
the  gate,  made  her  delivery  in  the  Mexican  port,. 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     233 

took  on  fresh  supplies,  and  stood  away  for  Leeward 
Island.  The  western  anchorage  had  received  and 
snugly  hidden  her.  Captain  Magnus,  meanwhile,  by 
means  of  a  mirror  flashed  from  Lookout,  had  main- 
tained communication  with  his  friends,  and  even 
visited  them  under  cover  of  the  supposed  shooting 
expedition.  And  now,  while  we  had  been  striving 
to  overcome  the  recalcitrancy  of  Mr.  Tubbs,  Captain 
Magnus  had  taken  a  short  cut  to  the  same  end.  You 
felt  that  the  secret  of  Mr.  Tubbs  would  be  extracted, 
if  need  be,  by  no  delicate  methods. 

But  Mr.  Tubbs's  character  possessed  none  of  that 
unreasonable  obstinacy  which  would  make  harsh 
measures  necessary  under  such  conditions.  His 
countenance,  as  the  illuminating  conversation  of  the 
pirates  had  proceeded,  lost  the  speckled  appearance 
which  had  characterized  it  at  the  height  of  his  ter- 
rors. Something  like  his  normal  hue  returned.  He 
sat  up  straighter,  moistened  his  dry  lips,  and  looked 
around  upon  us,  yes,  even  upon  Aunt  Jane  and  Miss 
Higglesby-Browne,  with  whom  he  had  been  so  lately 
and  so  tenderly  reconciled,  with  a  sidelong,  calculat- 
ing glance.  After  the  pirates  had  eaten,  the  prison- 
ers on  the  log  were  covered  with  a  rifle  and  their 
hands  untied,  while  Cookie,  in  a  lugubrious  silence 


234  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

made  eloquent  by  his  rolling  eyes,  passed  around 
among  us  the  remnants  of  the  food.  No  one  can  be 
said  to  have  eaten  with  appetite  except  Mr.  Tubbs, 
who  received  his  portion  with  wordy  gratitude  and 
devoured  it  with  seeming  gusto.  The  pirates,  full- 
fed,  with  pipes  in  mouths,  were  inclined  to  be  affable 
and  jocular.  "Feeding  the  animals,"  as  Slinker 
called  it,  seemed  to  afford  them  much  agreeable  di- 
version. Even  Magnus  had  lost  in  a  degree  his  usual 
sullenness,  and  was  wreathed  in  simian  smiles.  The 
intense  terror  and  revulsion  which  he  inspired  in  me 
kept  my  unwilling  eyes  constantly  wandering  in  his 
direction.  Yet  under  all  the  terror  was  a  bedrock 
confidence  that  there  was,  there  must  be  somehow  in 
the  essence  of  things,  an  eternal  rightness  which 
would  keep  me  safe  from  Captain  Magnus.  And  as 
I  looked  across  at  Dugald  Shaw  and  met  for  an  in- 
stant his  steady  watchful  eyes,  I  managed  a  swift 
little  smile — a  rather  wan  smile,  I  dare  say,  but  still 
a  smile. 

Cuthbert  Vane  caught,  so  to  speak,  the  tail  of  it, 
and  was  electrified.  I  saw  his  lips  form  at  Mr. 
Shaw's  ear  the  words,  Wonderful  little  sport,  by 
For  some  time  after  our  capture  by  the  pi- 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     235 

rates  Cuthbert's  state  had  been  one  of  settled  incre- 
dulity. Even  when  they  tied  his  hands  he  had  con- 
tinued to  contemplate  the  invaders  as  illusions.  It 
was,  this  remarkable  episode,  altogether  a  thing 
without  precedent — and  what  was  that  but  another 
name  for  the  impossible  ?  And  then  slowly,  by  pain- 
ful degrees — you  saw  them  reflected  in  his  candid 
face — it  grew  upon  him  that  it  was  precisely  the  im- 
possible, the  unprecedented,  that  was  happening. 

A  curious  stiffening  came  over  Cuthbert  Vane. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  knowledge  of  him  he 
showed  the  consciousness — instead  of  only  the  sub- 
consciousness — of  the  difference  between  Norman 
blood  and  the  ordinary  sanguine  fluid.  His  shoul- 
ders squared;  he  lost  his  habitual  easy  lounge  and 
sat  erect  and  tall.  Something  stern  and  aquiline 
showed  through  the  smooth  beauty  of  his  face,  so 
that  you  thought  of  effigies  of  crusading  knights 
stretched  on  their  ancient  tombs  in  High  Staunton 
church.  He  was  their  true  descendant  after  all,  this 
slow,  calm,  gentle-mannered  Cuthbert.  It  was  a 
young  lion  that  I  had  been  playing  with,  and  the 
claws  were  there,  strong  and  terrible  in  their  velvet 
sheath. 


236  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Captain  Tony,  having  finished  his  pipe,  knocked 
the  ashes  out  against  the  heel  of  his  boot  and  put  the 
pipe  in  his  pocket. 

"Well,"  he  said,  stretching,  "I'd  ruther  have  a 
nap,  but  business  is  business,  so  let's  get  down  to  it. 
Which  o'  them  guys  has  the  line  on  the  stuff,  Mag- 
nus?" 

"Old  Baldy,  here,"  returned  Magnus,  with  a  nod 
at  Mr.  Tubbs.  "Old  Washtubs  I  call  him  generally, 
ha,  ha!" 

"Then  looky  here,  Washtubs,"  said  Tony,  ad- 
dressing Mr.  Tubbs  with  sudden  sternness,  "maybe 
you  could  bluff  these  here  soft  guys,  but  we're  a  dif- 
ferent breed  o'  cats,  we  are.  Whatever  you  know, 
you'll  come  through  with  it  and  come  quick,  or  it'll 
be  the  worse  for  your  hide,  see?" 

Mr.  Tubbs  rose  from  the  log  with  promptness. 

"Captain,"  he  said  earnestly,  "from  long  expe- 
rience in  the  financial  centers  of  the  country,  I  have 
got  to  be  a  man  what  understands  human  nature. 
The  minute  I  looked  at  you,  I  seen  it  in  your  eye 
that  there  wasn't  no  use  in  tryin'  to  bluff  you. 
What's  more,  I  don't  want  to.  Once  he  gets  with  a 
congenial  crowd,  there  ain't  a  feller  anywheres  that 
will  do  more  in  the  cause  o'  friendship  than  old 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     237 

Hamilton  H.  Tubbs.  And  you  are  a  congenial 
crowd,  you  boys — gosh,  but  you  do  look  good  to  me 
after  the  bunch  o'  stiffs  I  been  playin'  up  to  here ! 
All  I  ask  is,  to  let  me  in  on  it  with  you,  and  I'll  be 
glad  to  put  you  wise  to  the  best  tricks  of  a  sly  old 
fox  who  ain't  ever  been  caught  yet  without  two 
holes  to  his  burrow.  I  won't  ask  no  half,  nor  no 
quarter,  either,  though  I  jest  signed  up  for  that 
amount  with  the  old  girl  here.  But  give  me  free- 
dom, and  a  bunch  o'  live  wires  like  you  boys !  I've 
near  froze  into  a  plaster  figure  o'  Virtue,  what  with 
talkin'  like  a  Sunday-school  class,  and  sparkin'  one 
old  maid,  and  makin'  out  like  I  wouldn't  melt  butter 
with  the  other.  So  H.  H.  will  ship  along  of  you, 
mates,  and  we'll  off  to  the  China  coast  somewheres 
where  the  spendin'  is  good  and  the  police  not  too 
nosy,  and  try  how  far  a  trunkful  of  doubloons  will 
go!" 

With  a  choky  little  gurgle  in  her  throat  Aunt  Jane 
fe1!  limply  against  me.  It  was  too  much.  All  day 
long  she  had  been  tossed  back  and  forth  like  a  shut- 
tlecock by  the  battledore  of  emotion.  She  had  borne 
the  shock  of  Mr.  Tubbs's  sordid  greed  for  gold,  his 
disloyalty  to  "the  expedition,  his  coldness  to  herself; 
she  had  been  shaken  by  the  tender  stress  of  the  rec- 


238  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

onciliation,  had  been  captured  by  pirates,  and  now 
suffered  the  supreme  blow  of  this  final  revelation  of 
the  treachery  of  Tubbs.  To  hear  her  romance  de- 
scribed as  the  sparking  of  an  old  maid — and  by  the 
sparker !  From  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  had  come  a 
snort  of  fury,  but  she  said  nothing,  having  appar- 
ently no  confidence  in  the  effect  of  oratory  on  pi- 
rates. She  did  not  even  exhort  Aunt  Jane,  but  left 
it  to  me  to  sustain  my  drooping  aunt  as  best  I  could. 

As  Mr.  Tubbs  made  his  whole-hearted  and  mag- 
nanimous proposal  Captain  Tony  opened  his  small 
black  eyes  and  contemplated  him  with  attention.  At 
the  conclusion  he  appeared  to  meditate.  Then  he 
glanced  round  upon  his  fellows. 

"What  say,  boys  ?  Shall  we  ship  old  Washtubs  on 
the  schooner  and  let  him  have  his  fling  along  with 
us?  Eh?"  And  as  Captain  Tony  uttered  these 
words  the  lid  of  his  left  eye  eclipsed  for  an  instant 
that  intelligent  optic. 

From  the  pirates  came  a  scattering  volley  of  as- 
sents. "All  right — hooray  for  old  Washtubs — sure, 
close  the  deal." 

"All  right,  Washtubs,  the  boys  are  willing.  So  I 
guess,  though  this  island  is  the  very  lid  of  the  hot 
place,  and  when  I  come  again  it's  going  to  be  with 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     239 

an  iceberg  in  tow  to  keep  the  air  cooled  off,  I  guess 
we  better  be  moving  toward  that  chest  of  doub- 
loons." 

It  was  arranged  that  Slinker  and  a  cross-eyed 
man  named  Horny  should  remain  at  the  camp  on 
guard.  As  a  measure  of  precaution  Cookie,  too, 
was  bound,  and  Aunt  Jane,  Miss  Browne  and  I 
ordered  into  the  cabin.  The  three  remaining  pirates, 
armed  with  our  spades  and  picks  and  dispensing  a 
great  deal  of  jocular  profanity,  set  out  for  the  cave 
under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Tubbs. 

Thankful  as  I  was  for  the  departure  of  Captain 
Magnus,  I  underwent  torments  in  the  stifling  in- 
terior of  the  cabin.  Aunt  Jane  wept  piteously.  I 
had  almost  a  fellow-feeling  with  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne  when  she  relapsed  from  her  rigidity  for  a 
moment  and  turning  on  Aunt  Jane  fiercely  ordered 
her  to  be  still.  This  completed  the  wreck  of  Aunt 
Jane's  universe.  Its  two  main  props  had  now  fallen, 
and  she  was  left  sitting  solitary  amid  the  ruins.  She 
subsided  into  a  lachrymose  heap  in  the  corner  of  the 
cabin,  where  I  let  her  remain  for  the  time,  it  was 
really  such  a  comfort  to  have  her  out  of  the  way. 
At  last  I  heard  a  faint  moan : 

"Virginia!" 


240  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

I  went  to  her.    "Yes,  auntie  ?" 

"Virginia,"  she  murmured  weakly,  "I  think  I 
shall  not  live  to  leave  the  island,  even  if  I  am  not — 
not  executed.  In  fact,  I  have  a  feeling  now  as 
though  thfe  end  were  approaching.  I  have  always 
known  that  my  heart  was  not  strong,  even  if  your 
Aunt  Susan  did  call  it  indigestion.  But  oh,  my  dear 
child,  it  is  not  my  digestion,  it  is  my  heart  that  has 
been  wounded !  To  have  reposed  such  confidence  in 
a  Serpent!  To  realize  that  I  might  have  been  im- 
paled upon  its  fangs !  Oh,  my  dear,  faithful  child, 
what  would  I  have  done  if  you  had  not  clung  to  me 
although  I  permitted  Serpents  to  turn  me  from  you ! 
But  I  am  cruelly  punished.  All  I  ask  is  that  some 
day — when  you  are  married  and  happy,  dear — you 
will  remove  from  this  desolate  spot  the  poor  remains 
of  her  who — of  her  who — "  Sobs  choked  Aunt 
Jane's  utterance. 

"Jane — "  began  Miss  Higglesby-Browne. 

"I  was  speaking  to  my  niece,"  replied  Aunt  Jane 
with  unutterable  dignity  from  her  corner.  Her 
small  features  had  all  but  disappeared  in  her  swol- 
len face,  and  her  hair  had  slipped  down  at  a  rakish 
angle  over  one  eye.  But,  of  course,  being  Aunt  Jane, 
she  must  choose  this  moment  to  be  queenly. 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     241 

"There,  there,  auntie,"  I  said  soothingly,  "of 
course  you  are  not  going  to  leave  your  bones  on  this 
island.  If  you  did,  you  know,  you  and  Bill  Halli- 
well  might  ha'nt  around  together — think  how  cozy ! 
(Here  Aunt  Jane  gave  a  convulsive  shudder.)  As 
to  my  being  married,  if  you  were  betting  just  now 
on  anybody's  chances  they  would  have  to  be  Captain 
Magnus's,  wouldn't  they?" 

"Good  gracious,  Virginia!"  shrieked  Aunt  Jane 
faintly.  But  I  went  on  relentlessly,  determined  to 
distract  her  mind  from  thoughts  of  her  approaching 
end. 

"All  things  considered,  I  suppose  I  really  ought  to 
ask  you  to  put  my  affairs  in  order  when  you  get 
back.  If  I  am  carried  off  by  the  pirates,  naturally 
I  shall  have  to  jump  overboard  at  once,  though  I  dis- 
like the  idea  of  drowning,  and  especially  of  being 
eaten  by  sharks.  Would  you  mind  putting  up  a  little 
headstone — it  needn't  cost  much — in  the  family  plot, 
with  just  'Virginia'  on  it?  And  anything  of  mine 
that  you  don't  want  yourself  I'd  like  Bess  to  have 
for  the  baby,  please.  Ask  her  when  the  little  duck  is 
old  enough  to  tell  her  my  sad  story — " 

By  this  time  Aunt  Jane  was  sobbing  loudly  and 
waving  her  little  hands  about  in  wild  beseeching. 


242  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"Oh,  my  precious  girl,  a  headstone!  My  love, 
would  I  grudge  you  a  monument — all  white  marble 
— little  angels — 'From  her  heart-broken  aunt'  ?  Oh, 
why,  why  are  we  not  safe  at  home  together  ?  Why 
was  I  lured  away  to  wander  about  the  world  with 
perfect  strangers  ?  Why — " 

"Jane !"  broke  in  Miss  Browne  again  in  awful 
tones.  But  at  that  moment  the  door  of  the  cabin 
opened  and  the  face  of  Slinker  peered  in. 

"Say,"  he  remarked,  "there  ain't  no  sense  in  you 
girls  stayin'  cooped  up  here  that  I  see.  I  guess  me 
and  Horny  can  stand  you  off  if  you  try  to  rush  us. 
Come  out  and  cool  off  a  little." 

The  great  heat  of  the  day  was  over  and  the  sun 
already  dropping  behind  the  peak  of  the  island.  Mr. 
Shaw  and  Cuthbert  had  been  allowed  to  sit  in  the 
shade,  and  I  thought  their  wrists  were  not  too 
tightly  bound  for  comfort.  Cookie  had  been  re- 
leased, and  under  the  eye  of  Horny  was  getting  sup- 
per. Crusoe  had  earlier  in  the  day  received  a  kick  in 
the  ribs  from  Captain  Magnus,  fortunately  too 
much  occupied  with  the  prisoners  to  pursue  his  ven- 
geance further,  and  had  fled  precipitately,  to  my 
enormous  relief.  The  dog  was  quite  wise  enough  to 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     243 

know  that  he  would  help  me  best  by  keeping  out  of 
the  clutches  of  our  common  foe.  I  hoped  he  had 
gone  back  to  his  solitary  pig-chasing,  though  I 
thought  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  once  at  the 
edge  of  the  wood.  But  at  least  he  knew  better  than 
to  venture  into  the  clearing. 

I  tried  to  pass  in  a  casual  manner  close  to  Mr. 
Shaw  and  Cuthbert — who  looked  more  of  a  crusad- 
ing Norman  than  ever — in  hopes  of  a  whispered 
word,  but  was  impeded  by  Aunt  Jane,  who  clung  to 
me  tottering.  So  I  led  her  to  a  seat  and  deposited 
her,  with  the  sympathetic  assistance  of  Slinker. 

"Now,  now,  old  girl,  cheer  up!"  he  admonished 
her.  "Between  you  and  me,  old  Washtubs  ain't 
worth  crying  over.  Sooner  or  later  he'd  of  give  you 
the  slip,  no  matter  how  tight  a  rein  you  kep'  on 
him." 

As  Slinker  turned  away  after  this  effort  at  con- 
solation he  came  face  to  face  with  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne.  I  suppose  in  the  stress  of  surprising  and 
capturing  the  camp  he  had  not  been  struck  with  her 
peculiarities.  Just  now,  between  the  indignity  of 
her  captive  state  and  the  insubordination  of  Aunt 
Jane,  Miss  B~rowne's  aspect  was  considerably  grim- 


244  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

mer  than  usual.  Slinker  favored  her  with  a  stare, 
followed  by  a  prolonged  whistle. 

"Say,"  he  remarked  to  me  in  a  confidential  un- 
dertone, though  pitched  quite  loud  enough  for  Miss 
Browne's  ears,  "is  it  real  ?  Would  it  have  bendable 
j'ints,  now,  same  as  you  and  me?" 

Miss  Browne  whirled  upon  him. 

"  'Old  your  tongue,  you  'orrid  brute !"  she 
shrieked. 

So,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne,  fallen  forever  from  her  high  estate,  was 
strewn  in  metaphorical  fragments  at  our  feet.  I 
turned  away,  feeling  it  time  to  draw  the  veil  of  char- 
ity upon  the  scene.  Not  so  Slinker.  He  looked 
about  him  carefully  on  the  ground. 

"Lady  drop  anything?"  he  inquired  solicitously. 

What  might  have  transpired,  had  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne  had  time  to  gather  breath,  I  dare  not  think, 
but  just  then  there  came  from  the  woods  the  sound 
of  footsteps  and  voices,  and  the  three  pirates  and 
Mr.  Tubbs  entered  the  clearing.  A  thrill  ran  through 
the  camp.  Captors  and  captives  forgot  all  else  but 
the  great,  the  burning  question — had  the  treasure 
been  discovered  ?  And  I  am  sure  that  no  one  was  so 


LIKE  A  CHAPTER  FROM  THE  PAST     245 

thrilled  as  I,  although  in  my  mind  the  question  took 
another  form. 

For  now  I  was  going  to  know  what  had  been 
waiting  for  me  there  in  the  cave,  when  I  stood  yes- 
terday at  its  black  entrance,  afraid  to  go  in. 


XVII 

FROM   DEAD   HANDS 

A  THE  head  of  the  file,  Captain  Tony  ad- 
vanced through  the  clearing,  and  what  with 
his  flowing  black  beard,  his  portly  form,  and  a  cer- 
tain dramatic  swagger  which  he  possessed,  he  looked 
so  entirely  Italian  and  operatic  that  you  expected  to 
hear  him  at  any  moment  burst  out  in  a  sonorous 
basso.  With  a  sweeping  gesture  he  flung  down  upon 
the  table  two  brown  canvas  bags,  which  opened  and 
discharged  from  gaping  mouths  a  flood  of  golden 
coins. 

His  histrionic  instinct  equal  to  the  high  demands 
of  the  moment,  Captain  Tony  stood  with  folded 
arms  and  gazed  upon  us  with  a  haughty  and  exult- 
ant smile. 

Slinker  and  the  cross-eyed  man  shouted  aloud. 
They  ran  and  clutched  at  the  coins  with  a  savage 
greed. 

"Gold,  gold — the  real  stuff !  It's  the  doubloons  all 
246 


FROM  DEAD  HANDS  247 

right — where' s  the  rest  of  'em?"  These  cries  broke 
from  Slinker  and  Horny  confusedly  as  the  gold  slid 
jingling  between  their  eager  fingers. 

"The  rest  of  'em  is — where  they  is,"  pronounced 
Tony  oracularly.  "Somewheres  in  the  sand  of  the 
cave,  of  course.  We'll  dig  'em  up  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

"What  was  the  point  in  not  digging  'em  all  up 
while  you  was  about  it  ?"  demanded  Slinker,  lower- 
ing. "What  was  the  good  o'  digging  up  jest  these 
here  couple  o'  bags  and  quitting?" 

"Because  we  didn't  dig  'em  up,"  responded  Tony 
darkly.  "Because  these  was  all  ready  and  waiting. 
Because  all  we  had  to  do  was  to  say  'Thankee/  to 
the  feller  that  handed  'em  out." 

"I  say,"  interposed  one  of  the  party  nervously, 
"what's  the  good  of  that  kind  of  talk?  They  ain't 
any  sense  in  hunting  trouble,  that  ever  I  heard  of!" 
He  glanced  over  his  shoulder  uneasily. 

The  rest  burst  out  in  a  guffaw. 

"Chris  is  scared.  He's  been  a-going  along  look- 
ing behind  him  ever  since.  Chris  will  have  bad 
dreams  to-night — he'll  yell  if  a  owl  hoots."  But  I 
thought  there  was  a  false  note  in  the  laughter  of 
more  than  one. 


24S  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"Oh,  of  course/'  remarked  Slinker  with  indignant 
irony,  "me  and  Horny  ain't  interested  in  this  at  all. 
We  jest  stayed  bumming  round  camp  here  'cause  we 
was  tired.  When  you're  through  with  this  sort  of 
bunk  and  feel  like  getting  down  to  business,  why 
jest  mention  it,  and  maybe  if  we  ain't  got  nothing 
better  to  do  we'll  listen  to  you." 

"I  was  jest  telling  you,  wasn't  I?"  demanded 
Tony.  "Only  that  fool  Chris  had  to  butt  in.  We 
got  these  here  bags  of  doubloons,  as  I  says,  without 
havin'  to  dig  for  'em — oncet  we  had  found  the  cave, 
which  it's  no  thanks  to  old  Washtubs  we  ain't  look- 
ing for  it  yet.  We  got  these  here  bags  right  out  of 
the  fists  of  a  skeleton.  Most  of  him  was  under  a 
rock,  which  had  fell  from  the  roof  and  pinned  him 
down  amidships.  Must  of  squashed  him  like  a 
beetle,  I  guess.  But  he'd  still  kep'  his  hold  on  the 
bags."  I  turned  aside,  for  fear  that  any  one  should 
see  how  white  I  was.  Much  too  white  to  be  ac- 
counted for  even  by  this  grisly  story.  To  the  rest, 
these  poor  bones  might  indeed  bear  mute  witness  to 
a  tragedy,  but  a  tragedy  lacking  outlines,  vague,  im- 
personal, without  poignancy.  To  me,  they  told  with 
dreadful  clearness  the  last  sad  chapter  of  the  tale  of 
Peter,  Peter  who  had  made  me  so  intimately  his  con- 


FROM  DEAD  HANDS  249 

fidante,  whose  love  and  hopes  and  solitary  strivings  I 
knew  all  about.  Struck  down  in  the  moment  of  his 
triumph  by  a  great  stupid  lump  of  soulless  stone,  by 
a  blind,  relentless  mechanism  which  had  been  at 
work  from  the  beginning,  timing  that  rock  to  fall — 
just  then.  Not  the  moment  before,  not  the  moment 
after,  out  of  an  eternity  of  moments,  but  at  that  one 
instant  when  Peter  stooped  for  the  last  of  his  brown 
bags — and  then  I  rejected  this,  and  knew  that  there 
was  nothing  stupid  or  blind  about  it — and  wondered 
whether  it  were  instead  malicious,  and  whether  all 
might  have  been  well  with  Peter  if  he  had  obeyed 
the  voice  that  bade  him  leave  the  crucifix  for  Bill — 

Vaguely  I  heard  around  me  a  babble  of  exclama- 
tions and  conjectures.  Murmurs  of  interest  rose 
even  from  our  captive  band.  Then  came  Slinker's 
voice,  loud  with  sudden  fear : 

"Say,  you  don't  suppose  the — the  Bones  would  of 
got  away  with  the  rest  of  the  coin  somehow,  do 
you  ?"  he  demanded. 

"Got  away  with  it  ?"  Tony  contemptuously  thrust 
aside  the  possibility.  "Got  away  with  it  how?  He 
sure  didn't  leave  the  island  with  it,  did  he?  Would 
he  of  dug  it  up  from  one  place  jest  to  bury  it  in  an- 
other? Huh!  Must  of  wanted  to  work  if  he  did! 


250  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Now  my  notion  is  that  this  happened  to  one  of  the 
guys  that  was  burying  the  gold,  and  that  the  rest 
jest  left  him  there  for  a  sort  of  scarecrow  to  keep 
other  people  out  of  the  cave." 

"But  the  gold?"  protested  Slinker.  "They 
wouldn't  leave  that  for  a  scarecrow,  would  they?" 

"Maybe  not,"  admitted  Tony,  "but  suppose  that 
feller  died  awful  slow,  and  went  on  hollering  and 
clutching  at  the  bags?  And  they  couldn't  of  got  that 
rock  off'n  him  without  a  block  and  tackle,  or  done 
much  to  make  things  easy  for  him  if  they  had,  him 
being  jest  a  smear,  as  you  may  say.  Well,  that  cave 
wouldn't  be  a  pleasant  place  to  stay  in,  would  it? 
And  no  one  would  have  the  nerve  to  snatch  them 
bags  away  to  bury  'em,  'cause  a  dying  man,  espe- 
cially when  he  dies  hard,  can  have  an  awful  grip.  So 
what  they  done  was  just  to  shovel  the  sand  in  on  the 
gold  they'd  stowed  away  and  light  out  quick.  And 
what  we  got  to  do  to-morrow  is  to  go  there  and  dig 
it  up." 

If  the  ingenuity  of  this  reasoning  was  more  re- 
markable than  its  logic,  the  pirates  were  not  the  men 
to  find  fault  with  it.  Indeed,  how  many  human 
hopes  have  been  bolstered  up  with  arguments  no 
sounder?  Desire  is  the  most  eloquent  of  advocates, 


FROM  DEAD  HANDS  251 

and  the  five  ruffians  had  only  to  listen  to  its  voice  to 
enjoy  in  anticipation  all  the  fruits  of  their  iniquitous 
schemes.  The  sight  of  the  golden  coins  intoxicated 
them.  They  played  with  the  doubloons  like  chil- 
dren, jingling  them  in  their  calloused  palms,  guess- 
ing at  weight  and  value,  calculating  their  equivalent 
in  the  joy  of  living.  Laughter  and  oaths  resounded. 
Mr.  Tubbs,  with  a  somewhat  anxious  air,  endeav- 
ored to  keep  himself  well  to  the  fore,  claiming  a 
share  in  the  triumph  with  the  rest.  There  was  only 
the  thinnest  veil  of  concealment  over  the  pirates' 
mockery.  "Old  Washtubs"  was  ironically  encour- 
aged in  his  role  of  boon  companion.  His  air  of 
swaggering  recklessness,  of  elderly  dare-deviltry, 
provoked  uproarious  amusement.  When  they  sat 
down  to  supper  Mr.  Tubbs  was  installed  at  the  head 
of  the  table.  They  hailed  him  as  the  discoverer  who 
had  made  their  fortunes.  From  their  talk  it  was 
clear  that  there  had  been  much  difficulty  about  find- 
ing the  cave,  and  that  for  a  time  Mr.  Tubbs's  posi- 
tion had  been  precarious.  Finally  Captain  Magnus 
had  stumbled  upon  the  entrance. 

"Jest  in  time,"  as  he  grimly  reminded  Mr.  Tubbs, 
"to  save  you  a  header  over  the  cliff." 

"Ha,  ha!"  cackled  Mr.  Tubbs  hysterically,  "you 


252  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

boys  will  have  your  little  joke,  eh?  Knew  well 
enough  you  couldn't  get  along  without  the  old  man, 
didn't  you?  Knew  you  was  goin*  to  need  an  old 
financial  head  to  square  things  in  certain  quarters — 
a  head  what  understands  how  to  slip  a  little  coin  into 
the  scales  o'  Justice  to  make  'em  tilt  the  right  way. 
Oh,  you  can't  fool  the  old  man,  he,  he !" 

While  the  marauders  enjoyed  their  supper,  the 
women  prisoners  were  bidden  to  "set  down  and  stay 
sot,"  within  sweep  of  Captain  Tony's  eye.  Mr. 
Shaw  and  Cuthbert  Vane  still  held  the  position  they 
had  occupied  all  afternoon,  with  their  backs  propped 
against  a  palm  tree.  Occasionally  they  exchanged  a 
whisper,  but  for  the  most  part  were  silent,  their  cork 
helmets  jammed  low  over  their  watchful  eyes.  I 
was  deeply  curious  to  know  what  Mr.  Shaw  had 
made  of  the  strange  story  of  the  skeleton  in  the  cave. 
He  could  hardly  have  accepted  Captain  Tony's  ex- 
planation of  it,  which  displayed,  indeed,  an  imper- 
fect knowledge  of  the  legend  of  the  Bonny  Lass. 
Might  not  the  Scotchman,  by  linking  this  extraordi- 
nary discovery  with  my  unexplained  request  of  him 
this  morning,  have  arrived  already  at  some  glimmer- 
ing of  the  truth  ?  I  hoped  so,  and  longed  to  impart  to 
him  my  own  sure  knowledge  that  the  confident  ex- 


FROM  DEAD  HANDS  253 

pectations  of  the  freebooters  for  the  morrow  were 
doomed  to  disappointment.  There  seemed  a  meas- 
ure of  comfort  in  this  assurance,  for  our  moment  of 
greatest  peril  well  might  be  that  in  which  the  pirates, 
with  the  gold  in  their  possession  and  on  the  point  of 
fleeing  from  the  island,  recalled  the  respectable  be- 
cause so  truthful  maxim  that  dead  men  tell  no  tales. 
Therefore  in  the  postponement  of  the  crucial  mo- 
ment lay  our  best  hope  of  rescue  or  escape. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  fancied  them  returning  from 
the  cave  surly  and  disappointed,  ready  to  vent  their 
wrath  on  us.  All,  except  the  unspeakable  Magnus, 
had  shown  so  far  a  rough  good  nature,  even  amuse- 
ment at  our  plight,  but  you  felt  the  snarl  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  grinning  lips.  You  knew  they  would  be 
undependable  as  savages  or  vicious  children,  who 
find  pleasure  in  inflicting  pain.  And  then  there  was 
always  my  own  hideous  danger  as  the  favored  of 
the  wolfish  captain — 

And  I  wondered,  desperately,  if  I  might  buy 
safety  for  us  all  at  the  price  of  the  secret  of  the 
Island  Queen,  if  a  promise  from  the  five  scoundrels 
around  the  table  would  have  more  meaning  than 
their  wild  boasts  and  shoutings  now  ? 

And  now  the  night  that  I  unutterably  dreaded  was 


254  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

upon  us.  But  the  pirates  still  thought  of  nothing  but 
the  gold.  They  had  exhausted  their  own  portable 
supplies  of  liquor,  and  were  loud  in  their  denuncia- 
tions of  our  bone-dry  camp,  as  they  termed  it.  Mr. 
Tubbs  enlarged  upon  the  annoyance  which  Mn 
Shaw's  restrictions  in  this  matter  had  been  to  him, 
and  regretted  that  he  had  long  ago  exhausted  the 
small  amount  of  spirituous  refreshment  which  he 
had  been  able  to  smuggle  in.  Tony,  however,  was 
of  another  mind.  "And  a  good  thing,  too,"  he  de- 
clared, "that  you  guys  can't  booze  yourselves  blind 
before  morning,  or  there  wouldn't  be  much  gold 
took  out  of  that  there  cave  to-morrow.  Once  we 
make  port  somewheres  with  that  chest  of  treasure 
aboard  you  can  pour  down  enough  to  irrigate  the 
Mojave  Desert  if  you  like." 

It  was  Tony,  too,  who  intercepted  a  tentative 
movement  of  Captain  Magnus  in  my  direction,  and 
ordered  me  into  the  cabin  with  my  aunt  and  Miss 
Browne.  Through  the  walls  of  the  hut  we  heard 
loud  and  eager  talk  of  the  morrow  and  its  certain 
golden  harvest  as  the  pirates  made  their  dispositions 
for  the  night.  Then  the  voices  trailed  off  sleepily 
and  silence  succeeded,  broken  only  by  the  ceaseless 
murmur  of  the  waves  around  the  island. 


XVIII 

OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO 

NEXT  morning  I  came  out  of  the  hut  in  time 
to  see  Mr.  Shaw  and  his  companion  in  duress 
led  forth  from  the  sleeping  quarters  which  they  had 
shared  with  their  captors.  They  were  moored  as  be- 
fore to  a  palm  tree,  by  a  rope  having  a  play  of  two 
or  three  feet,  and  their  hands  unbound  while  they 
made  a  hasty  breakfast  under  the  eye  of  a  watchful 
sentinel.  Then  their  wrists  were  tied  again,  not 
painfully,  but  with  a  firmness  which  made  any  slip- 
ping of  their  bonds  impossible. 

While  the  pirates  were  breakfasting  a  spirited  dis- 
pute took  place  among  them  as  to  who  should  go  to 
the  treasure  cave  and  who  stay  in  camp  to  guard  the 
prisoners.  Slinker  and  Horny  urged  with  justice  that 
as  they  had  missed  all  the  excitement  of  the  preced- 
ing day  it  was  their  turn  to  visit  the  cave.  There 
not  only  the  probable  rapture  of  exhuming  the  chest 
awaited  them,  but  the  certain  privilege  of  inspecting 
255 


256  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"the  Bones."  This  ghastly  relic  seemed  to  exercise 
an  immense  fascination  upon  their  imaginations,  a 
fascination  not  unmingled  with  superstitious  dread. 
The  right  to  see  the  Bones,  then,  Slinker  and  Horny 
passionately  claimed.  Tony  supported  them,  and  it 
ended  with  Chris  and  Captain  Magnus  being  told 
off  as  our  guards  for  the  morning. 

At  this  Chris  raised  a  feeble  lamentation,  but  he 
was  evidently  a  person  whose  objections  nobody  was 
accustomed  to  heed.  Captain  Magnus,  who  might 
with  plausibility  have  urged  claims  superior  to  those 
of  all  the  rest,  assented  to  the  arrangement  with  a 
willingness  which  filled  me  with  boding.  I  had 
caught  his  restless  furtive  eye  fixed  gloatingly  upon 
me  more  than  once.  I  saw  that  he  was  aware  of  my 
terror,  and  exulted  in  it,  and  took  a  feline  pleasure 
in  playing  me,  as  it  were,  and  letting  me  realize  by 
slow  degrees  what  his  power  over  me  would  be  when 
he  chose  finally  to  exert  it.  My  best  hope  for  the 
present,  once  the  merciful  or  prudent  Tony  was  out 
of  sight,  lay  in  this  disposition  of  my  tormentor  to 
sit  quiescent  and  anticipate  the  future.  Neverthe- 
less, in  leaving  the  cabin  I  had  slipped  into  my  blouse 
a  small  penknife  which  I  had  found  in  Aunt  Jane's 
bag.  It  was  quite  new,  and  I  satisfied  myself  that 


OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO    257 

the  blades  were  keen.  My  own  large  sheath-knife 
and  my  revolver  I  had  been  deprived  of  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  the  thoughtful  Magnus.  I  had  surren- 
dered them  unprotestingly,  fearful  of  all  things  that 
my  possessions  might  be  ransacked  and  Peter's 
diary,  though  hidden  with  much  art  at  the  bottom  of 
a  bag,  be  brought  to  light.  For  I  might  yet  sell  the 
secret  of  the  Island  Queen  at  a  price  which  should 
redeem  us  all. 

Unobtrusively  clutching  for  comfort  at  the  pen- 
knife in  my  blouse,  I  watched  the  departure  of  the 
pirates,  including  my  protector  Tony.  They  had 
taken  Mr.  Tubbs  with  them,  although  he  had  mag- 
nanimously offered  to  remain  behind  and  help  guard 
the  camp.  Evidently  his  experience  of  the  previous 
day  had  not  filled  him  with  confidence  in  his  new 
friends.  It  might  be  quite  possible  that  he  intended, 
if  left  behind,  to  turn  his  coat  again  and  assist  us  in 
a  break  for  liberty.  If  so,  he  was  defeated  by  the 
perspicacious  Tony,  who  observed  that  when  he 
found  a  pal  that  suited  him  as  well  as  Washtubs  he 
liked  to  keep  him  under  his  own  eye.  With  a  spade 
over  his  reluctant  shoulder,  and  many  a  dubious 
backward  glance,  Mr.  Tubbs  followed  the  file  into 
the  woods. 


258  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Aunt  Jane  had  a  bad  headache,  and  as  nobody  ob- 
jected she  had  remained  in  the  cabin.  Miss  Browne 
and  I  had  been  informed  by  Tony  that  we  might  do 
as  we  liked  so  long  as  we  did  not  attempt  to  leave  the 
clearing.  Already  Violet  had  betaken  herself  to  a 
camp-chair  in  the  shade  and  was  reading  a  work  en- 
titled Thoughts  on  the  Involute  Spirality  of  the 
Immaterial.  Except  for  the  prisoners  tied  to  the 
palm  tree,  the  camp  presented  superficially  a  scene 
of  peace.  Cookie  busied  himself  with  a  great  show 
of  briskness  in  his  kitchen.  Because  of  the  immense 
circumspection  of  his  behavior  he  was  being  allowed 
a  considerable  degree  of  freedom.  He  served  his 
new  masters  apparently  as  zealously  as  he  had  served 
us,  but  enveloped  in  a  portentous  silence.  "Yes,  sah 
— no,  sah,"  were  the  only  words  which  Cookie  in 
captivity  had  been  heard  to  utter.  Yet  from  time  to 
time  I  had  caught  a  glance  of  dark  significance  from 
Cookie's  rolling  eye,  and  I  felt  that  he  was  loyal,  and 
that  this  enforced  servitude  to  the  unkempt  frater- 
nity of  pirates  was  a  degradation  which  touched 
him  to  the  quick. 

I  had  followed  the  example  of  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne  as  regards  the  camp-chair  and  the  book. 
What  the  book  was  I  have  not  the  least  idea,  but  I 


OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO    259 

perused  it  with  an  appearance  of  profound  abstrac- 
tion which  I  hoped  might  discourage  advances  on 
the  part  of  Captain  Magnus.  Also  I  made  sure  that 
the  penknife  was  within  instant  reach.  Meanwhile 
my  ears,  and  at  cautious  intervals  my  eyes,  kept  me 
informed  of  the  movements  of  our  guards. 

For  a  considerable  time  the  two  ruffians,  lethargic 
after  an  enormous  breakfast,  lay  about  idly  in  the 
shade  and  smoked.  As  I  listened  to  their  lazy,  frag- 
mentary conversation  vast  gulfs  of  mental  vacuity 
seemed  to  open  before  me.  I  wondered  whether 
after  all  wicked  people  were  just  stupid  people — and 
then  I  thought  of  Aunt  Jane — who  was  certainly  not 
wicked — 

As  the  heat  increased  a  voice  of  lamentation  broke 
from  Chris.  He  was  dry — dry  enough  to  drink  up 
the  condemned  ocean.  No,  he  didn't  want  spring 
water,  which  Cookie  obsequiously  tendered  him ;  he 
wanted  a  drink — wouldn't  anybody  but  a  fool  nig- 
ger know  that?  There  was  plenty  of  the  real  stuff 
aboard  the  schooner,  on  the  other  side  of  the — adjec- 
tive— island.  Why  had  they,  with  incredible  lack  of 
forethought,  brought  along  nothing  but  their  pocket 
flasks?  Why  hadn't  they  sent  the  adjective  nigger 
back  for  more?  Where  was  the  bottle  or  two  that 


260  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

had  been  rooted  out  last  night  from  the  medical 
stores  ?  Empty  ?  Every  l#st  drop  gone  down-  some- 
body's greedy  gullet  ?  The  adjectives. came  thick  and 
fast  as  Chris  hurled  the  bottle  into  the  bay,  where  it 
swam  bobbingly  upon  the  ripples-.  Captain  Magnus 
agreed  with  the  gist  of  Chris's  remarks,  but  depre- 
cated, in  a  truly  philosophical  spirit,  their  unprofit- 
able heat.  There  wasn't  any  liquor,  so  what  was  the 
good  of  making  an  adjective  row?  Hadn't  he  en- 
dured the  equivalent  of  Chris's  present  sufferings 
for  weeks  ?  He  was  biding  his  time,  he  was.  Plenty 
of  drink  by  and  by,  plenty  of  all  that  makes  life  soft 
and  easy.  He  bet  there  wouldn't  many  hit  any 
higher  spots  than  him.  He  bet  there  was  one  little 
girl  that  would  be  looked  on-  as  lucky,  in  case  she 
was  a  good  little  girl  and  encouraged  him  to  show 
his  natural  kindness.  And  I  was  favored  with  a 
blood-curdling  leer  from  across  the  camp,  of  which 
I  had  put  as  much  as  possible  between  myself  and 
the  object  of  my  dread. 

But  now,  like  a  huge  black  Ganymede,  appeared 
Cookie,  bearing  cups  and  a  large  stone  crock. 

"It  suhtinly  am  a  fact,  Mistah  Chris,  sah,"  said 
Cookie,  "dat  dey  is  a  mighty  unspirituous  fluidity 
'bout  dis  yere  spring  watah.  Down  war  I  is  come 


OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO    261 

from  no  pussons  of  de  Four  Hund'ed  ain't  eveh 
'customed  to  partake  of  such.  But  the  sassiety  I  has 
been  in  lately  round  dis  yere  camp  ain't  of  de  con- 
vivulous  ordah;  ole  Cookie  had  to  keep  it  dark  dat 
he  got  his  li'le  drop  o'  comfort  on  de  side.  Dis 
yere's  only  home-made  stuff,  sah.  'Tain't  what  I 
could  off  ah  to  a  gennelmun  if  so  be  I  is  got 
the  makin's  of  a  genuwine  old-style  julep  what  is  de 
beverage  of  de  fust  fam'lies.  But  bein'  as  it  is,  it  am 
mighty  coolin',  sah,  and  it  got  a  li'le  kick  to  it — not 
much,  but  jes'  'bout  enough  to  make  a  gennelmun 
feel  lak  he  is  one." 

Cookie's  tones  dripped  humility  and  propitiation. 
He  offered  the  brimming  cup  cringingly  to  the  pale- 
eyed,  red-nosed  Chris,  who  reached  for  it  with  alac- 
rity, drank  deep,  smacked  his  lips  meditatively,  and 
after  a  moment  passed  the  cup  back. 

"  'Tain't  so  worse,"  he  said  approvingly.  "Any- 
how, it's  drink!" 

Magnus  suddenly  began  to  laugh. 

"S'elp  me,  it's  the  same  dope  what  laid  out  the 
Honorable !"  he  chortled.  "Here,  darky,  let's  have 
a  swig  of  it!"  «. 

Cookie  complied,  joining  respectfully  in  the  cap- 
tain's mirth. 


262  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"I  guess  you-all  is  got  stronger  haids  den  dat 
young  gennelmun!"  he  remarked.  "Dis  yere  ole 
niggah  has  help  hisself  mighty  freely  and  dat  Pro- 
hibititionist  Miss  Harding  ain't  eveh  found  it  out. 
Fac'  is,  it  am  puffeckly  harmless  'cept  when  de  haid 
is  weak." 

False,  false  Cookie !  Black  brother  in  perfidy  to 
Mr.  Tubbs !  One  friend  the  less  to  be  depended  on 
if  a  chance  for  freedom  ever  came  to  us!  A  hot 
flush  of  surprise  and  anger  dyed  my  cheeks,  and  I 
felt  the  indignant  pang  of  faith  betrayed.  I  had 
been  as  sure  of  Cookie's  devotion  as  of  Crusoe's — 
which  reminded  me  that  the  little  dog  had  not  re- 
turned to  camp  since  he  fled  before  the  onslaught  of 
the  vengeful  captain. 

Cookie  refilled  the  pirates'  cups,  and  set  the  crock 
beside  them  on  the  ground. 

"In  case  you  gennelmun  feels  yo'selfs  a  li'le 
thursty  later  on,"  he  remarked.  He  was  retiring, 
when  Captain  Magnus  called  to  him. 

"Blackie,  this  ain't  bad.  It's  coolin',  but  thin — 
a  real  nice  ladylike  sort  of  drink,  I  should  say.  Sup- 
pose you  take  a  swig  over  to  Miss  Jinny  there  with 
my  compliments — I'm  one  to  always  treat  a  lady 
generous  if  she  gives  me  half  a  chance." 


OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO    263 

Obediently  Cookie  hastened  for  another  cup,  set 
it  on  a  tray,  and  approached  me  with  his  old-time 
ornate  manner.  I  faced  him  with  a  withering  look, 
but,  unmindful,  he  bowed,  presenting  me  the  cup, 
and  interposing  his  bulky  person  between  me  and 
the  deeply-quaffing  pirates.  At  the  same  time  his 
voice  reached  me,  pitched  in  a  low  and  anxious  key. 

"For  de  Lawd's  sake,  Miss  Jinny,  spill  it  out !  It 
am  mighty  powerful  dope — it  done  fumented  twice 
as  long  as  befo' — it  am  boun'  to  give  dat  trash  de 
blind-staggahs  sho'tly !" 

Instantly  I  understood,  and  a  thrill  of  relief  and 
of  hope  inexpressible  shot  through  me.  I  raised  to 
the  troubled  black  face  a  glance  which  I  trust  was 
eloquent — it  must  needs  have  been  to  express  the 
thankfulness  I  felt.  Cookie  responded  with  a  sol- 
emn and  convulsive  wink — and  I  put  the  cup  to  my 
lips  and  after  a  brief  parade  of  drinking  passed  it 
back  to  Cookie,  spilling  the  contents  on  the  ground 
en  route. 

Cookie  retired  with  his  tray  in  his  most  impressive 
cake-walk  fashion,  and  in  passing  announced  to  Cap- 
tain Magnus  that  "Miss  Jinny  say  she  mos'  suhtinly 
am  obligated  to  de  gennelmun  fo'  de  refreshment  of 
dis  yere  acidulous  beverage."  Which  bare- faced  men- 


264  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

dacity  provoked  a  loud  roar  of  amusement  from  the 
sentinels,  who  were  still  sampling  the  cooling  con- 
tents of  the  stone  crock. 

"Learning  to  like  what  I  do  already,  hey?"  guf- 
fawed the  captain,  and  he  called  on  Chris  to  drain 
another  cup  with  him  to  the  lady  of  his  choice. 

I  have  believed  since  that  dragging,  interminable 
time  which  I  now  lived  through,  that  complete  de- 
spair, where  you  rest  quite  finally  on  bedrock  and 
have  nothing  to  dread  in  the  way  of  further  tumbles, 
must  be  a  much  happier  state  than  the  dreadful  one 
of  oscillating  between  hope  and  fear.  For  a  leaden- 
footed  eternity,  it  seemed  to  me,  I  oscillated,  longing 
for,  yet  dreading,  the  signs  that  Cookie's  powerful 
dope  had  begun  to  work  upon  our  guards — for 
might  not  the  first  symptoms  be  quite  different  from 
the  anticipated  blind  staggers?  Fancy  a  murderous 
maniac  pair  reeling  about  the  clearing,  with  death- 
vomiting  revolvers  and  gleaming  knives ! 

And  then  suddenly  time,  which  had  dragged  so 
slowly,  appeared  to  gallop,  and  the  morning  to  be 
fleeing  past,  so  that  every  wave  that  broke  upon  the 
beach  was  the  footfalls  of  the  returning  pirates. 
Long,  long  before  that  thirsty,  garrulous  pair  grew 
still  and  torpid  their  companions  must  return — 

\ 


OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO    265 

And  I  saw  Cookie,  his  stratagem  discovered,  dan- 
gling from  a  convenient  tree. 

Gradually  the  rough  disjointed  talk  of  the  sail- 
ors began  to  languish.  Covertly  watching,  I  saw 
that  Chris's  head  had  begun  to  droop.  His  body, 
propped  comfortably  against  a  tree,  sagged  a  little. 
The  hand  that  held  the  cup  was  lifted,  stretched  out 
in  the  direction  of  the  enticing  jar,  then  forgetting 
its  errand  fell  heavily.  After  a  few  spasmodic 
twitchings  of  the  eyelids  and  uneasy  grunts,  Chris 
slumbered. 

Captain  Magnus  was  of  tougher  fiber.  But  he,  too, 
grew  silent  and  there  was  a  certain  meal-sack  limp- 
ness about  his  attitude.  His  dulled  eyes  stared 
dreamily.  All  at  once  with  a  jerk  he  roused  him- 
self, turned  over,  and  administered  to  the  sleeping 
Chris  a  prod  with  his  large  boot. 

"Hey,  there,  wake  up!  What  right  you  got  to  be 
asleep  at  the  switch?"  But  Chris  only  breathed 
more  heavily. 

Captain  Magnus  himself  heaved  a  tremendous 
yawn,  settled  back  in  greater  comfort  against  his 
sustaining  tree,  and  closed  his  eyes.  I  waited,  count- 
ing the  seconds  by  the  beating  of  the  blood  in  my 
ears.  In  the  background  Cookie  hovered  appre- 


266  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

hensively.  Plainly  he  would  go  on  hovering  unless 
loud  snores  from  the  pirates  gave  him  assurance. 
For  myself,  I  sat  fingering  my  penknife,  wondering 
whether  I  ought  to  rush  over  and  plunge  it  into  the 
sleepers'  throats.  This  would  be  heroic  and  practical, 
but  unpleasant.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I  merely 
tried  to  free  the  prisoners  and  Captain  Magnus 
woke,  what  then?  The  palm  where  they  were  tied 
was  a  dozen  yards  from  me,  much  nearer  to  the 
guards,  and  within  range  of  even  their  most  languid 
glance.  Beyond  the  prisoners  was  Miss  Browne, 
glaring  uncomprehendingly  over  the  edge  of  her 
book.  There  was  no  help  in  Miss  Browne. 

I  left  my  seat  and  stole  on  feet  which  seemed  to 
stir  every  leaf  and  twig  to  loud  complaint  toward 
the  captive  pair.  Tense,  motionless,  with  burning 
eyes,  they  waited.  There  was  a  movement  from 
Captain  Magnus;  he  yawned,  turned  and  muttered. 
I  stood  stricken,  my  heart  beating  with  loud  thumps 
against  my  ribs.  But  the  captain's  eyes  remained 
closed. 

"Virginia — quick,  Virginia!"  Dugald  Shaw  was 
stretching  out  his  bound  hands  to  me,  and  I  had 
dropped  on  my  knees  before  him  and  begun  to  cut  at 
the  knotted  cords.  They  were  tough  strong  cords, 


OF  WHICH  COOKIE  IS  THE  HERO    267 

and  I  was  hacking  at  them  feverishly  when  some- 
thing bounded  across  the  clearing  and  flung  itself 
upon  me.  Crusoe,  of  course! — and  wild  with  the 
joy  of  reunion.  I  strangled  a  cry  of  dismay,  and 
with  one  hand  tried  to  thrust  him  off  while  I  cut 
through  the  rope  with  the  other. 

"Down,  Crusoe!"  I  kept  desperately  whispering. 
But  Crusoe  was  unused  to  whispered  orders.  He 
kept  bounding  up  on  me,  intent  to  fulfil  an  un- 
achieved ambition  of  licking  my  ear.  Cuthbert  Vane 
tried,  under  his  breath,  to  lure  him  away.  But  Cru- 
soe's emotions  were  all  for  me,  and  swiftly  becoming 
uncontrollable  they  burst  forth  in  a  volley  of  shrill 
yelps. 

A  loud  cry  answered  them.  It  came  from  Captain 
Magnus,  who  had  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  was  stag- 
gering across  the  clearing.  One  hand  was  groping 
at  his  belt — it  was  flourished  in  the  air  with  the 
gleam  of  a  knife  in  it — and  staggering  and  shout- 
ing the  captain  came  on. 

"Ah,  you  would,  would  you?  I'll  teach  you — 
but  first  I  settle  him,  the  porridge-eatin'  Scotch 
swine — " 

The  reeling* figure  with  the  knife  was  right  above 
me.  I  sprang  up,  in  my  hand  the  little  two-inch 


268  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

weapon  which  was  all  I  had  for  my  defense — and 
Dugald  Shaw's.  There  were  loud  noises  in  my  ears, 
the  shouting  of  men,  and  a  shrill  continuous  note 
which  I  have  since  realized  came  from  the  lungs  of 
Miss  Higglesby-Browne.  Magnus  made  a  lunge 
forward — the  arm  with  the  knife  descended.  I 
caught  it — wrenched  at  it  frantically — striving 
blindly  to  wield  my  little  penknife,  whether  or  not 
with  deadly  intent  I  don't  know  to  this  day.  He 
turned  on  me  savagely,  and  the  penknife  was  whirled 
from  my  hand  as  he  caught  my  wrist  in  a  terrible 
clutch. 

All  I  remember  after  that  is  the  terrible  steely 
grip  of  the  captain's  arms  and  a  face,  flushed,  wild- 
eyed,  horrible,  that  was  close  to  mine  and  inevitably 
coming  closer,  though  I  fought  and  tore  at  it — of 
hot  feverish  lips  whose  touch  I  knew  would  scorch 
me  to  the  soul — and  then  I  was  suddenly  free,  and 
falling,  falling,  a  long  way  through  darkness. 


XIX 

THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES 

MY  FIRST  memory  is  of  voices,  and  after 
that  I  was  shot  swiftly  out  of  a  tunnel  from 
an  immense  distance  and  opened  my  eyes  upon  the 
same  world  which  I  had  left  at  some  indefinite  peri- 
od in  the  past.  Faces,  at  first  very  large,  by  and  by 
adjusted  themselves  in  a  proper  perspective  and  be- 
came quite  recognizable  and  familiar.  There  was 
Aunt  Jane's,  very  tearful,  and  Miss  Higglesby- 
Browne's,  very  glum,  and  the  Honorable  Cuthbert's, 
very  anxious  and  a  little  dazed,  and  Cookie's,  very, 
very  black.  The  face  of  Dugald  Shaw  I  did  not  see, 
for  the  quite  intelligible  reason  that  I  was  lying  with 
my  head  upon  his  shoulder. 

As  soon  as  I  realized  this  I  sat  up  suddenly,  while 
every  one  exclaimed  at  once,  "There,  she's  quite  all 
right — see  how  her  color  is  coming  back !" 

People  kept  Aunt  Jane  from  flinging  herself  upon 

me  and  soothed  her  into  calm  while  I  found  out 

what  had  happened.    The  penknife  that  I  had  lost 

in  my  struggle  with  Captain  Magnus  had  fallen  at 

269 


270  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  Scotchman's  feet.  Wrenching  himself  free  of 
his  all  but  severed  bonds  he  had  seized  the  knife, 
slashed  through  the  rope  that  held  him  to  the  tree, 
and  flung  himself  on  Captain  Magnus.  It  was  a 
brief  struggle — a  fist  neatly  planted  on  the  ruffian's 
jaw  had  ended  it,  and  the  captain,  half  dazed  from 
his  potations,  went  down  limply. 

Meanwhile  Cookie  had  appeared  upon  the  scene 
flourishing  a  kitchen  knife,  though  intending  it  for 
no  more  bloody  purpose  than  the  setting  free  of 
Cuthbert  Vane.  Throughout  the  fray  Chris  slum- 
bered undisturbed,  and  he  and  the  unconscious  Mag- 
nus were  now  reposing  side  by  side,  until  they  should 
awake  to  find  themselves  neatly  trussed  up  with 
Cookie's  clothes-lines. 

But  my  poor  brave  Crusoe  dragged  a  broken  leg, 
from  a  kick  bestowed  on  him  by  Captain  Magnus, 
at  whom  he  had  flown  valiantly  in  my  defense. 

So  far  so  good ;  we  had  signally  defeated  our  two 
guards,  and  the  camp  was  ours.  But  what  about  the 
pirates  who  were  still  in  the  cave  and  would  shortly 
be  returning  from  it?  They  were  three  armed  and 
sturdy  ruffians,  not  to  include  Mr.  Tubbs,  whose 
habits  were  strictly  non-combative.  It  would  mean 
a  battle  to  the  death. 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES      271 

Our  best  hope  would  be  to  wait  in  ambush  behind 
the  trees  of  the  clearing — I  mean  for  Dugald  Shaw 
and  Cuthbert  Vane  to  do  it — and  shoot  down  the 
unsuspecting  pirates  as  they  returned.  This  des- 
perate plan,  which  so  unpleasantly  resembled  mur- 
der, cast  gloom  on  every  brow. 

"It's  the  women,  lad,"  said  the  Scotchman  in  a 
low  voice  to  Cuthbert.  "It's — it's  Virginia."  And 
Cuthbert  heavily  assented. 

Seeing  myself  as  the  motif  of  such  slaughter 
shocked  my  mind  suddenly  back  to  clearness. 

"Oh,"  I  cried,  "not  that !  Why  not  surprise  them 
in  the  cave,  and  make  them  stay  there?  One  man 
could  guard  the  entrance  easily — and  afterward  we 
could  build  it  up  with  logs  or  something." 

Everybody  stared. 

"A  remarkably  neat  scheme,"  said  Mr.  Shaw, 
"but  impossible  of  application,  I'm  afraid,  because 
none  of  us  knows  where  to  find  the  cave." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  know!" 

There  was  a  lengthy  silence.  People  looked  at 
one  another,  and  their  eyes  said,  This  has  been  too 
much  for  herf~ 

"I  know,"  I  impatiently  repeated.     "I  can  take 


272  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

you  straight  there.  I  found  the  tombstone  before 
Mr.  Tubbs  did,  and  the  cave  too.  Come,  let's  not 
waste  time.  We  must  hurry — they'll  be  getting 
back!" 

Amazement,  still  more  than  half  incredulous, 
surged  round  me.  Then  Mr.  Shaw  said  rapidly : 

"You're  right.  Of  course,  if  you  have  found  the 
cave,  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  keep  them  shut 
up  in  it.  But  we  must  move  fast — perhaps  we're  too 
late  already.  If  they  have  found  the  chest  they  may 
by  now  be  starting  for  camp  with  the  first  load  of 
doubloons." 

Again  I  shook  my  head. 

"They  haven't  found  the  gold,"  I  assured  him. 

The  astonished  faces  grew  more  anxious.  "It 
sho'  have  told  on  li'le  Miss  Jinny's  brain,"  muttered 
Cookie  to  himself. 

"They  haven't  found  the  gold,"  I  reiterated  with 
emphasis,  "because  the  gold  is  not  in  the  cave.  Don't 
ask  me  how  I  know,  because  there  isn't  time  to  tell 
you.  There  was  no  gold  there  but  the  two  bags  that 
the  pirates  brought  back  last  night.  The — the  skel- 
eton moved  it  all  out." 

"My  Lawd!"  groaned  Cookie,  staggering  back- 
ward. 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES      273 

"Virginia !  I  had  no  idea  you  were  superstitious !" 
quavered  Aunt  Jane. 

"I  say,  do  take  some  sleeping  tablets  or  something 
and  quiet  your  nerves !"  implored  Cuthbert  with  the 
tenderest  solicitude. 

In  my  exasperation  I  stamped  my  foot. 

"And  while  we  are  arguing  here  the  pirates  may 
be  starting  back  to  camp!  And  then  we'll  have  to 
kill  them  and  go  home  and  give  ourselves  up  to  be 
hanged!  Please,  please,  come  with  me  and  let  me 
show  you  that  I  know !"  I  lifted  my  eyes  to  the  in- 
tent face  of  Dugald  Shaw. 

"All  right,"  he  said  tersely.  "I  think  you  do 
know.  How  and  what,  we'll  find  out  later." 
Rapidly  he  made  his  plan,  got  together  the  things 
needful  for  its  execution,  looked  to  the  bonds  of 
the  still  dazed  and  drowsy  prisoners,  posted  Cookie 
in  their  neighborhood  with  a  pair  of  pistols,  and 
commanded  Aunt  Jane  to  dry  her  tears  and  look 
after  Miss  Higglesby-Browne,  who  had  dismayed 
every  one  by  most  inopportunely  toppling  over  in  a 
perfectly  genuine  swoon. 

Then  the  Scotchman,  Cuthbert  Vane  and  I  set  off 
through  the  woods.  The  men  were  heavily  armed, 
and  I  had  recovered  my  own  little  revolver  and  re- 


274  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

stored  it  to  my  belt.  Mr.  Shaw  had  seen  to  this,  and 
had  said  to  me,  very  quietly : 

"You  know,  Virginia,  if  things  don't  go  our  way, 
it  may  be  necessary  for  you  to  use  it — on  yourself." 

And  I  nodded  assentingly. 

We  went  in  silence  through  the  green  hush  of  the 
woods,  moving  in  single  file.  My  place  as  guide  was 
in  the  van,  but  Mr.  Shaw  deposed  me  from  it  and 
went  ahead  himself,  while  Cuthbert  Vane  brought 
up  the  rear.  No  one  spoke,  even  to  whisper.  I 
guided  Dugald  Shaw,  when  needful,  by  a  light  touch 
upon  the  arm.  Our  enterprise  was  one  of  utmost 
danger.  At  any  moment  we  might  hear  the  steps 
and  voices  of  the  returning  pirates.  Thus  fore- 
warned, we  might  of  course  retreat  into  the  woods 
and  let  them  pass,  ourselves  unseen.  But  then,  what 
of  those  whom  we  had  left  in  camp?  Could  we 
leave  them  undefended  to  the  vengeance  of  Captain 
Magnus?  No,  if  we  met  the  pirates  it  was  their 
lives  or  ours — and  I  recall  with  incredulity  my  reso- 
lution to  imbed  five  of  my  six  bullets  in  a  pirate  be- 
fore I  turned  the  sixth  upon  myself.  I  reflected  with 
satisfaction  that  five  bullets  should  be  a  fatal  dose  to 
any  pirate  unless  an  exceptionally  tough  one.  And 
I  hoped  he  would  not  be  tough — 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES      275 

But  I  tell  myself  with  shudders  that  it  was  not  I, 
but  some  extraordinary  recrudescence  of  a  primitive 
self,  that  indulged  these  lethal  gloatings. 

No  steps  but  our  own,  no  voices  but  of  birds, 
broke  the  stillness  of  the  woods.  We  moved  onward 
swiftly,  and  presently  the  noise  of  the  sea  came  to 
us  with  the  sudden  loudness  that  I  remembered.  I 
paused,  signaled  caution  to  my  companions,  and 
crept  on. 

We  passed  the  grave,  and  I  saw  that  the  vines  had 
been  torn  aside  again,  and  that  the  tombstone  was 
gone.  We  came  to  the  brink  of  the  cliff,  and  I 
pointed  silently  downward  along  the  ledge  to  the 
angle  in  which  lay  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  My 
breath  came  quickly,  for  at  any  instant  a  head  might 
be  thrust  forth  from  the  opening.  Already  the  sun 
was  mounting  toward  the  zenith.  The  noontide  heat 
and  stillness  was  casting  its  drowsy  spell  upon  the 
island.  The  air  seemed  thicker,  the  breeze  more 
languid.  And  all  this  meant  meal-time — and  the 
thoughts  of  hungry  pirates  turning  toward  camp. 

My  hope  was  that  they  were  still  preoccupied  with 
the  fruitless  search  in  the  cave. 

Mr.  Shaw  and  Cuthbert  dropped  down  upon  the 
ledge.  Though  under  whispered  orders  to  retreat 


276  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

I  could  not,  but  hung  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff, 
eager  and  breathless.  Then  with  a  bound  the  men 
were  beside  me.  Mr.  Shaw  caught  my  hand,  and 
we  rushed  together  into  the  woods. 

A  quake,  a  roar,  a  shower  of  flying  rocks.  It 
was  over — the  dynamite  had  done  its  work,  whether 
successfully  or  not  remained  to  be  seen.  After  a 
little  the  Scotchman  ventured  back.  He  returned  to 
us  where  we  waited  in  the  woods — Cuthbert  to 
mount  guard  over  me — with  a  cleared  face. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  said.  "The  entrance  is  com- 
pletely blocked.  I  set  the  charge  six  feet  inside,  but 
the  roof  is  down  clear  to  the  mouth.  Poor  wretches 
— they  have  all  come  pouring  out  upon  the  sand — " 

All  three  of  us  went  back  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff. 
Seventy  feet  below,  on  the  narrow  strip  of  sand  be- 
fore the  sea-mouth  of  the  cave,  we  saw  the  figures 
of  four  men,  who  ran  wildly  about  and  sought  for 
a  foothold  on  the  sheer  face  of  the  cliff.  As  we 
stood  watching  them,  with,  on  my  part,  at  least,  un- 
expected qualms  of  pity  and  a  cold  interior  sensa- 
tion very  unlike  triumph,  they  discovered  us.  Then 
for  the  first  time,  I  suppose,  they  understood  the  na- 
ture of  their  disaster.  We  could  not  hear  their  cries, 
but  we  saw  arms  stretched  out  to  us,  fists  frantically 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES      277 

shaken,  hands  lifted  in  prayer.  We  saw  Mr.  Tubbs 
flop  down  upon  his  unaccustomed  knees — it  was  all 
rather  horrible. 

I  drew  back,  shivering.  "It  won't  be  for  long,  of 
course,"  I  said  uncertainly,  "just  till  the  steamer 
comes- — and  we'll  give  them  lots  to  eat — but  I  sup- 
pose they  think — they  will  soon  be  just  a  lot  more 
skeletons — "  And  here  I  was  threatened  with  a  moist 
anticlimax  to  my  late  Amazonian  mood. 

Why  should  the  frequent  and  natural  phenomena 
of  tears  produce  such  panic  in  the  male  breast?  At 
a  mere  April  dewiness  about  my  lashes  these  two 
strong  men  quaked. 

"Don't — don't  cry !"  implored  Cuthbert  earnestly. 

"It's  been  too  much  for  her!"  exclaimed  the  once 
dour  Scot  in  tones  of  anguish.  "Hurry,  lad — we 
must  find  her  some  water — " 

"Nonsense,"  I  interposed,  winking  rapidly.  "Just 
think  of  some  way  to  calm  those  creatures,  so  that  I 
shan't  see  them  in  my  dreams,  begging  and  beseech- 
ing— "  For  I  had  not  forgotten  the  immensity  of 
my  debt  to  Tony. 

So  a  note  was  written  .on  a  leaf  torn  from  a 
pocketbook  and  "thrown  over  the  cliff  weighted  with 
a  stone.  The  captives  swooped  upon  it.  Followed 


278  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

then  a  vivid  pantomime  by  Tony,  expressive  of  eased 
if  unrepentant  minds,  while  Mr.  Tubbs,  by  gestures, 
indicated  that  'though  sadly  misunderstood,  old  H. 
H.  was  still  our  friend  and  benefactor. 

It  was  an  attentive  group  to  which  on  our  return 
to  camp  I  related  the  circumstances  which  had  made 
possible  our  late  exploit  of  imprisoning  the  pirates  in 
the  cave.  The  tale  of  my  achievements,  though  re- 
counted with  due  modesty,  seemed  to  put  the  finish- 
ing touch  to  the  extinction  of  Violet,  for  she  wilted 
finally  and  forever,  and  was  henceforth  even  bullied 
by  Aunt  Jane.  '  The  diary  of  Peter  was  produced, 
and  passed  about  with  awe  from  hand  to  hand.  Yes- 
terday's discovery  in  the  cave  had  rounded  out  the 
history  of  Peter  to  a  melancholy  completion.  But 
though  we  knew  the  end  we  guessed  in  vain  at  the 
beginning,  at  Peter's  name,  at  that  of  the  old  grand- 
father whose  thrifty  piety  had  brought  him  to 
Havana  and  to  the  acquaintance  of  the  dying  mate 
of  the  Bonny  Lass,  at  the  whereabouts  of  the  old 
New  England  farm  which  had  been  mortgaged  to 
buy  the  Island  Queen,  at  the  identity  of  Helen,  who 
waited  still,  perhaps,  for  the  lover  who  never  would 
return. 

But  even  our  regrets  for  Peter  did  not  chill  the 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES      279 

exultation  with  which  we  thought  of  the  treasure- 
chest  waiting  there  under  the  sand  in  the  cabin  of 
the  Island  Queen. 

All  afternoon  we  talked  of  it.  That,  for  the 
present,  was  all  we  could  do.  There  were  the  two 
prisoners  in  camp  to  be  guarded — and  they  had 
presently  awakened  and  made  remarks  of  a  strongly 
personal  and  unpleasant  trend  on  discovering  their 
situation.  There  was  Crusoe  invalided,  and  need- 
ing petting,  and  getting  it  from  everybody  on  the 
score  of  his  romantic  past  as  Benjy  as  well  as  of  his 
present  virtues.  The  broken  leg  had  been  cleverly 
set  by  Dugald — somehow  in  the  late  upheaval  Miss 
and  Mister  had  dropped  quite  out  of  our  vocabularies 
— with  Cuthbert  as  surgeon's  assistant  and  me  hold- 
ing the  chloroform  to  the  patient's  nose.  There  was 
the  fatigue  and  reaction  from  excitement  which 
everybody  felt,  and  Peter's  diary  to  be  read,  and 
golden  dreams  to  be  indulged.  And  there  was  the 
delicate  question  to  be  discussed,  of  how  the  treas- 
ure should  be  divided. 

"Why,  it  all  belongs  to  Virginia,  of  course,"  said 
Cuthbert,  opening  his  eyes  at  the  thought  of  any 
other  view  being  taken  but  this  obvious  one. 

"Nonsense!"  I  hastily  interposed.     "My  finding 


280  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  diary  was  just  an  accident ;  I'll  take  a  share  of  it 
— no  more." 

Here  Miss  Browne  murmured  something  half  in- 
audible about  " — confined  to  members  of  the  Expe- 
dition— "  but  subsided  for  lack  of  encouragement. 

"I  suggest,"  said  Dugald,  "that  our  numbers  hav- 
ing most  fortunately  diminished  and  there  being,  on 
the  basis  of  Peter's  calculations,  enough  to  enrich 
us  all,  that  we  should  share  and  share  alike."  And 
this  proposal  was  received  with  acclamations,  as  was 
a  second  from  the  same  source,  devoting  a  certain 
percentage  of  each  share  to  Cookie,  to  whom  the 
news  of  his  good  fortune  was  to  come  later  as  a 
great  surprise. 

As  an  earnest  of  our  riches,  we  had  the  two  bags 
of  doubloons  which  the  pirates  had  recovered  from 
the  fleshless  fingers  of  the  dead  man.  They  were 
old  worn  coins,  most  of  them,  many  dating  from 
the  seventeenth  century,  and  bearing  the  effigies  of 
successive  kings  of  Spain.  Each  disk  of  rich,  yellow 
Peruvian  gold,  dug  from  the  earth  by  wretched 
sweating  slaves  and  bearing  the  name  of  a  narrow 
rigid  tyrant,  had  a  history,  doubtless,  more  wild 
and  bloody  than  even  that  we  knew.  The  merchant 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES      281 

of  Lima  and  his  servant,  Bill  Halliwell,  and  after- 
ward poor  Peter  had  died  for  them.  For  their  sake 
we  had  been  captives  in  fear  of  death,  and  for  their 
sake  now  four  wretched  beings  were  prisoners  in  the 
treasure-cave  and  two  more  cursed  fate  and  their 
bonds  within  hearing  of  our  outraged  ears.  And 
who  knew  how  much  more  of  crime  and  blood  and 
violence  we  should  send  forth  into  the  world  with 
the  long-buried  treasure?  Who  knew — and,  ah,  me, 
who  cared?  So  riotous  was  the  gold-lust  in  my 
veins  that  I  think  if  I  had  known  the  chest  to  be  an- 
other Pandora's  box  I  should  still  have  cried  out  to 
open  it. 

Shortly  before  sundown  Cuthbert  and  Cookie 
were  despatched  by  Dugald  Shaw  to  the  cliff  above 
the  cave  with  supplies  for  the  inhumed  pirates. 
These  were  let  down  by  rope.  A  note  was  brought 
up  on  the  rope,  signed  by  Mr.  Tubbs,  and  con- 
taining strangely  jumbled  exhortations,  prayers  and 
threats.  A  second  descent  of  the  rope  elicited 
another  missive,  neatly  folded  and  addressed  in  the 
same  hand  to  Miss  Jane  Harding.  Cuthbert  gave 
this  privately  to  me,  but  its  contents  must  forever  be 
unknown,  for  it  went,  unread,  into  Cookie's  fire.  I 


282  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

had  no  mind  to  find  Aunt  Jane,  with  her  umbrella  as 
a  parachute,  vanishing  over  the  cliffs  to  seek  the 
arms  of  a  repentant  Tubbs. 

The  fly  in  the  ointment  of  our  satisfaction,  and 
the  one  remaining  obstacle  to  our  possession  of  the 
treasure,  was  the  presence  of  the  two  pirates  in  our 
midst.  They  were  not  nice  pirates.  They  were 
quite  the  least  choice  of  the  collection.  Chris,  when 
he  was  not  swearing,  wept  moistly,  and  so  touched 
the  heart  of  Aunt  Jane  that  we  lived  in  fear  of  her 
letting  him  go  if  she  got  the  opportunity.  He  told 
her  that  he  had  lost  an  aunt  in  his  tender  youth,  of 
whom  she  reminded  him  in  the  most  striking  way, 
and  that  if  this  long-mourned  relative  had  lived  he 
felt  he  should  have  been  a  better  man  and  not  led 
away  against  his  higher  nature  by  the  chance  of  fall- 
ing in  with  bad  companions.  Aunt  Jane  thought 
her  resemblance  to  Chris's  aunt  a  remarkable  coinci- 
dence and  an  opportunity  for  appealing  to  his  better 
self  which  should  be  improved.  She  wanted  to  im- 
prove it  by  untying  his  hands,  because  he  had 
sprained  his  wrist  in  his  childhood  and  it  was  sensi- 
tive. He  had  sprained  it  in  rescuing  a  little  compan- 
ion from  drowning,  the  child  of  a  drunkard  who  had 
unfeelingly  thrown  his  offspring  down  a  well.  This 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES     283 

episode  had  been  an  example  to  Chris  which  had 
kept  him  from  drinking  all  his  life,  until  he  had 
fallen  into  his  present  rough  company. 

Aunt  Jane  took  it  very  hard  that  the  Scotchman 
seemed  quite  unfeeling  about  Chris's  wrist.  She 
said  it  seemed  very  strange  to  her  in  a  man  who  had 
so  recently  known  the  sorrows  of  captivity  himself. 
She  said  she  supposed  even  suffering  would  not 
soften  some  natures. 

As  to  Magnus,  his  state  of  sullen  fury  made  him 
indifferent  even  to  threats  of  punishment.  He  swore 
with  a  determination  and  fluency  worthy  of  a  bet- 
ter cause.  For  myself,  I  could  not  endure  his  neigh- 
borhood. It  seemed  to  me  I  could  not  live  through 
the  days  that  must  intervene  before  the  arrival  of 
the  Rufus  Smith  in  the  constant  presence  of  this 
wretch.' 

More  than  all,  it  made  Dugald  and  Cuthbert  un- 
willing to  leave  the  camp  together.  There  was  al- 
ways the  possibility  that  the  two  ruffians  might  find 
means  to  free  themselves,  and,  with  none  but  Cookie 
and  the  women  present,  to  obtain  control  of  the  fire- 
arms and  the  camp.  For  the  negro,  once  the  men 
were  free,  could  not  surely  be  depended  on  to  face 
them.  Loyal  he  was,  and  valiant  in  his  fashion,  but 


284  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

old  and  with  the  habit  of  submission.  One  did  not 
see  him  standing  up  for  long  before  two  berserker- 
mad  ruffians. 

What  to  do  with  the  pirates  continued  for  a  day 
and  a  night  a  knotty  problem. 

It  was  Cuthbert  Vane  who  solved  it,  and  with  the 
simplicity  of  genius. 

"Why  not  send  'em  down  to  their  chums  the  way 
we  do  the  eats?"  he  asked. 

It  seemed  at  first  incredibly  fantastic,  but  the 
more  you  thought  of  it  the  more  practical  it  grew. 
It  was  characteristic  of  Cuthbert  not  to  see  it  as  fan- 
tastic. For  him  the  sharp  edges  of  fact  were  never 
shaded  off  into  the  dim  and  nebulous.  Cuthbert, 
when  he  saw  things  at  all,  saw  them  steadily  and 
whole.  He  would  let  down  the  writhing,  swearing 
Magnus  over  the  cliff  as  tranquilly  as  he  let  down 
loaves  of  bread,  aware  merely  of  its  needing  more 
muscular  effort.  Only  he  would  take  immense  care 
not  to  hurt  him. 

Dire  outcries  greeted  the  decision.  Aunt  Jane 
wept,  and  Chris  wept,  and  said  this  never  could  have 
happened  to  him  if  his  aunt  had  lived.  Oaths  flowed 
from  Captain  Magnus  in  a  turgid  stream.  Never- 
theless the  twain  were  led  away,  firmly  bound,  and 


THE  YOUNG  PERSON  SCORES     285 

guarded  by  Dugald,  Cuthbert  and  the  negro.  And 
the  remarkable  program  proposed  by  Cuthbert  Vane 
was  triumphantly  carried  out.  Six  prisoners  now 
occupied  the  old  cave  of  the  buccaneers. 

With  the  camp  freed  from  the  presence  of  the 
pirates  all  need  of  watchfulness  was  over.  The 
prisoners  in  the  cave  were  provided  with  no  imple- 
ments but  spades,  whereas  dynamite  and  crowbars 
would  be  necessary  to  force  a  way  through  the 
debris  which  choked  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel.  A 
looking  over  of  the  ground  at  the  daily  feeding  time 
would  be  enough. 

To-morrow's  sun  would  see  our  hopes  crowned 
and  all  our  toil  rewarded  by  the  recovery  of  the 
treasure  from  the  Island  Queen. 


XX 


NEXT  morning  an  event  occurred  sufficiently 
astonishing  to  divert  our  thoughts  from  even 
the  all-important  topic  of  the  Island  Queen.  Cookie, 
who  had  been  up  on  the  high  land  of  the  point  gath- 
ering firewood,  came  rushing  back  to  announce  that 
a  steamer  had  appeared  in  the  offing.  All  the  party 
dropped  their  occupations  and  ran  to  look.  That  the 
Rufus  Smith  had  returned  at  an  unexpectedly  early 
date  was  of  course  the  natural  explanation  of  the 
appearance  of  a  vessel  in  these  lonely  seas.  But 
through  the  glass  the  new  arrival  turned  out  to  be 
not  the  tubby  freighter  but  a  stranger  of  clean-cut, 
rakish  build,  lying  low  in  the  water  and  designed  for 
speed  rather  than  carrying  capacity. 

A  mile  offshore  she  lay  to,  and  a  boat  left  her  side. 

Wondering  and  disquieted,  we  returned  to  the  beach 

to  await  her  coming.    Was  it  another  pirate  ?    What 

possible  errand  could  bring  a  steamer  to  this  remote, 

286 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  287 

unvisited,  all  but  forgotten  little  island  ?  Had  some- 
body else  heard  the  story  of  the  Bonny  Lass  and 
come  after  the  doubloons,  unknowing  that  we  were 
beforehand  with  them?  If  so,  must  we  do  battle 
for  our  rights  ? 

The  boat  shot  in  between  the  points  and  skimmed 
swiftly  over  the  rippling  surface  of  the  cove,  under 
the  rhythmic  strokes  of  half  a  dozen  flashing  oars. 
The  rowers  wore  a  trim  white  uniform,  and  in  the 
stern  a  tall  figure,  likewise  white-clad,  turned  to- 
ward us  a  dark  face  under  a  pith  helmet. 

As  the  oarsmen  drove  the  boat  upon  the  beach  the 
man  in  the  stern  sprang  agilely  ashore.  Dugald 
Shaw  stepped  forward,  and  the  stranger  approached, 
doffing  his  helmet  courteously. 

"You  are  the  American  and  English  party  who 
landed  here  some  weeks  ago  from  the  Rufus 
Smith?" 

His  English  was  easy  and  correct,  though  spoken 
with  a  pronounced  Spanish  accent.  His  dark  high- 
featured  face  was  the  face  of  a  Spaniard.  And  his 
grace  was  the  grace  of  a  Spaniard,  as  he  bowed 
sweepingly  and  handed  Mr.  Shaw  a  card. 

"Senor  Don  Enrique  Gonzales,"  said  Dugald, 
bowing  in  his  stiff-necked  fashion,  "I  am  very  happy 


288  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

to  meet  you.  But  as  you  represent  His  Excellency 
the  President  of  the  Republic  of  Santa  Marina  I 
suppose  you  come  on  business,  Sefior  Gonzales?" 

"Precisely.  I  am  enchanted  that  you  apprehend 
the  fact  without  the  tiresomeness  of  explanations. 
For  business  is  a  cold,  usually  a  disagreeable  affair, 
is  it  not  so?  That  being  the  case,  let  us  get  it  over." 

"First  do  us  the  honor  to  be  seated,  Sefior  Gon- 
zales." 

Comfortably  bestowed  in  a  camp-chair  in  the 
shade,  the  Spaniard  resumed : 

"My  friend,  this  island  belongs,  as  of  course  you 
are  aware,  to  the  republic  of  which  I  have  the  honor 
to  be  a  citizen.  All  rights  and  privileges,  such  as 
harvesting  the  copra  crop,  are  strictly  conserved  by 
the  republic.  All  persons  desiring  such  are  required 
to  negotiate  with  the  Minister  of  State  of  the  Re- 
public. And  how  much  more,  when  it  is  a  question 
of  treasure — of  a  very  large  treasure,  Sefior?" 

The  Scotchman's  face  was  dark. 

"I  had  understood,"  he  replied,  without  looking 
in  the  direction  of  Miss  Higglesby-Browne,  who 
seemed  in  the  last  few  moments  to  have  undergone 
some  mysterious  shrinking  process,  "that  negotia- 
tions in  the  proper  quarter  had  been  undertaken  and 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  289 

brought  to  a  successful  conclusion — that  in  short  we 
were  here  with  the  express  permission  of  the  govern- 
ment of  Santa  Marina." 

This  was  a  challenge  which  Miss  Browne  could 
not  but  meet. 

"I  had,"  she  said  hoarsely,  "I  had  the  assurance 
of  a — a  person  high  in  the  financial  circles  of 
the  United  States,  that  through  his — his  influence 
with  the  government  of  Santa  Marina  it  would  not 
be  necessary — in  short,  that  he  could  fix  the  Presi- 
dent— I  employ  his  own  terms — for  a  considerable 
sum,  which  I — which  my  friend  Miss  Harding  gave 
him." 

"And  the  name  of  this  influential  person?"  in- 
quired the  Santa  Marinan,  suavely. 

"Hamilton  H.  Tubbs,"  croaked  Miss  Browne. 

Senor  Gonzales  smiled. 

"I  remember  the  name  well,  madam.  It  is  that  of 
the  pretended  holder  of  a  concession  from  our  gov- 
ernment, who  a  few  years  ago  induced  a  number  of 
American  school-teachers  and  clergymen  and  other 
financially  innocent  persons  to  invest  in  imaginary 
coffee  plantations.  He  had  in  some  doubtful  fashion 
become  possessed  of  a  little  entirely  worthless  land, 
which  formed  the  basis  of  his  transactions.  His 


290  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

frauds  were  discovered  while  he  was  in  our  coun- 
try, and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  between  two  days, 
according  to  your  so  picturesque  idiom.  Needless 
to  say  his  application  for  permission  to  visit  Lee- 
ward Island  for  any  purpose  would  instantly  have 
been  refused,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  never 
made." 

In  a  benumbed  silence  we  met  the  blow.  The 
riches  that  had  seemed  within  our  grasp  would 
never  be  ours.  We  had  no  claim  upon  them,  for  all 
our  toil  and  peril ;  no  right  even  to  be  here  upon  the 
island.  Suddenly  I  began  to  laugh;  faces  wearing 
various  shades  of  shocked  surprise  were  turned  on 
me.  Still  I  laughed. 

"Don't  you  see,"  I  cried,  "how  ridiculous  It  all 
is  ?  All  the  time  it  is  we  who  have  been  pirates !" 

The  Spaniard  gave  me  a  smile  made  brilliant  by 
the  gleam  of  smoldering  black  eyes  and  the  shine  of 
white  teeth. 

"Sefiorita,  with  all  regret,  I  must  agree." 

"Miss  Virginia  Harding,"  said  Miss  Browne  with 
all  her  old  severity,  rejuvenated  apparently  by  this 
opportunity  to  put  me  in  my  place,  "would  do  well 
to  consult  her  dictionary,  before  applying  oppro- 
brious terms  to  persons  of  respectability.  A  pirate 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  291 

is  one  who  commits  robbery  upon  the  high  seas. 
If  such  a  crime  lies  at  the  door  of  any  member  of 
this  expedition  I  am  unaware  of  it." 

"What's  in  a  name?"  remarked  Dugald  Shaw, 
shrugging.  "We  were  after  other  people's  prop- 
erty, anyway.  I  am  very  sorry  about  it,  Senor  Gon- 
zales,  but  I  would  like  to  ask,  if  you  don't  mind 
telling,  how  you  happened  to  learn  of  our  being  here, 
so  long  as  it  was  not  through  the  authentic  channels. 
On  general  principles,  I  tried  to  keep  the  matter 
quiet." 

"We  learned  in  a  manner  somewhat — what  do  you 
say? — curious,"  returned  the  Spaniard,  who,  hav- 
ing presented  the  men  with  cigars  and  by  permission 
lighted  one  himself,  was  making  himself  extremely 
at  home  and  appeared  to  have  no  immediate  inten- 
tion of  haling  us  away  to  captivity  in  Santa  Marinan 
dungeons.  "But  before  I  go  further,  kindly  tell  me 
whether  you  have  had  any — ah — visitors  during 
your  stay  on  the  island  ?" 

"We  have,"  Mr.  Shaw  replied,  "very  troublesome 
ones." 

The  Spaniard  smiled. 

"Then  answer  your  own  question.  These  men, 
while  unloading  a  contraband  cargo  in  a  port  of 


292  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Mexico  near  the  southern  border,  grew  too  merry  in 
a  wineshop,  and  let  it  be  known  where  they  were 
bound  when  again  they  put  to  sea.  The  news,  after 
some  delay,  found  its  way  to  our  capital.  At  once 
the  navy  of  the  republic  was  despatched  to  investi- 
gate the  matter.  It  is  the  navy  of  Santa  Marina, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  which  at  this  moment  guards 
the  entrance  of  the  bay."  And  Senor  Gonzales 
waved  an  ironic  hand  in  the  direction  of  the  little 
steamer  lying  off  the  island. 

"On  the  way  here  I  put  in  at  Panama,  where  cer- 
tain inquiries  were  satisfactorily  answered.  There 
were  those  in  that  port  who  had  made  a  shrewd  guess 
at  the  destination  of  the  party  which  had  shipped  on 
the  Rufus  Smith.  I  then  pursued  my  course  to  Lee- 
ward. But  admit,  my  friends,  that  I  have  not  by 
my  arrival,  caused  you  any  material  loss.  Except 
that  I  have  unfortunately  been  compelled  to  pre- 
sent you  to  yourselves  in  the  character  of — as  says 
the  young  lady — pirates — madam,  I  speak  under 
correction — I  have  done  you  no  injury,  eh?  And 
that  for  the  simple  reason  that  you  have  not  discov- 
ered what  you  sought,  and  hence  can  not  be  required 
to  surrender  it." 

We  looked  at  one  another  doubtfully.    The  am- 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  293 

biguous  words  of  the  Spaniard,  the  something  hu- 
morous and  mocking  which  lay  behind  his  courtly 
manner,  put  us  quite  in  the  dark. 

''Senor  Gonzales,"  replied  the  Scotchman,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  "it  is  true  that  so  far  only  a 
negligible  amount  of  what  we  came  to  find  has  re- 
warded us.  But  I  can  not  in  honesty  conceal  from 
you  that  we  know  where  to  look  for  the  rest  of  it, 
and  that  we  had  certainly  expected  to  leave  the 
island  with  it  in  our  possession." 

The  dark  indolent  eyes  of  our  visitor  grew  sud- 
denly keen.  Half- veiled  by  the  heavy  lashes,  they 
searched  the  face  of  Dugald  Shaw.  It  seemed  that 
what  they  found  in  that  bold  and  open  countenance 
satisfied  them.  His  own  face  cleared  again. 

"I  think  we  speak  at  cross-purposes,  Mr.  Shaw," 
he  said  courteously,  "and  that  we  may  better  under- 
stand each  other,  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  little  story. 
At  about  this  season,  two  years  ago,  the  navy  of 
Santa  Marina,  the  same  which  now  lies  off  the 
island,  was  making  a  voyage  of  inspection  along  the 
coast  of  the  republic.  It  was  decided  to  include  Lee- 
ward in  the  cruise,  as  it  had  been  unvisited  for  a 
considerable  time.  I  hold  no  naval  rank — indeed, 
we  are  not  a  seafaring  people,  and  the  captain  of  La 


294  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

Golondrina  is  a  person  from  Massachusetts,  Jere- 
miah Bowles  by  name,  but  as  the  representative  of 
His  Excellency  I  accompanied  La  Golondrina.  On 
our  arrival  at  Leeward  I  came  ashore  in  the  boat, 
and  found  to  my  surprise  a  small  sloop  at  anchor  in 
the  cove.  About  the  clearing  were  the  signs  of  recent 
habitation,  yet  I  knew  that  the  old  German  who  had 
had  the  copra  concession  here  had  been  gone  for 
some  time.  There  were  no  personal  trifles  left  in 
the  hut,  however,  and  indeed  it  was  plain  that 
weeks  had  passed  since  there  had  been  any  one 
about.  No  one  responded  to  our  shouts  and  calls. 

"I  turned  my  attention  to  the  sloop.  In  the  cabin, 
besides  a  few  clothes,  I  found  something  that  inter- 
ested me  very  much — a  large  brass-bound  chest,  of 
an  antique  type  such  as  is  common  enough  in  my 
own  country. 

"Of  course  I  had  heard  of  the  many  legends  of 
treasure  buried  on  Leeward  Island.  Consequently 
I  was  somewhat  prepared  to  find  in  the  chest,  what 
in  fact  I  did  find  there,  over  a  million  dollars  in  old 
Spanish  coins. 

"These  coins,  which  were  packed  in  strong  can- 
vas bags,  were,  as  you  may  fancy,  very  quickly  trans- 
ferred to  the  cutter.  We  did  not  trouble  ourselves 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  295 

with  the  unwieldy  chest,  and  it  remains,  I  suppose, 
in  the  cabin  of  the  sloop,  which  I  observed  as  we 
crossed  the  cove  to  have  been  washed  up  upon  the 
rocks. 

"As  my  curiosity  was  extremely  piqued  regarding 
the  owner  of  the  sloop,  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
discovered  the  treasure,  and  still  more  his  extra- 
ordinary disappearance,  I  should  have  wished  to 
make  a  thorough  search  of  the  island.  But  the  sea- 
son for  storms  was  shortly  to  begin,  and  already  the 
weather  signs  were  so  threatening  that  Captain 
Bowles  was  reluctant  to  remain  longer  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  island,  which  has  a  bad  name  for 
dangerous  shoals  and  reefs.  For  the  same  reason 
it  was  thought  unwise  to  risk  a  man  or  two  aboard 
the  sloop  to  sail  her  to  the  mainland.  Indeed,  we 
ourselves  were  glad  to  get  safely  home  with  our 
doubloons  in  the  teeth  of  a  tropical  gale." 

"This  is  a  very  interesting  story,  Senor  Gonzales," 
said  Dugald  Shaw  quietly,  "and  as  you  say,  your 
visit  here  deprives  us  of  nothing,  but  merely  saves 
us  further  unprofitable  labor.  We  are  grateful  to 
you." 

The  Spaniard  bowed. 

"You  do  me  too  much  honor.  But  as  you  remark, 


296  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

the  story  is  interesting.  It  has  also  the  element  of 
mystery.  For  there  remains  the  question  of  what 
became  of  the  owner  of  the  sloop.  His  final  prep- 
arations for  leaving  the  island  had  evidently  been 
made,  his  possessions  removed  from  the  hut,  pro- 
visions for  the  voyage  brought  on  board  the  sloop — 
and  then  he  had  vanished.  What  had  befallen  him? 
Did  the  gold  carry  with  it  some  deadly  influence? 
One  plays,  as  it  were,  with  this  idea,  imagining  the 
so  melancholy  and  bloody  history  of  these  old  doub- 
loons. How,  in  the  first  place,  had  he  found  them? 
Through  chance — by  following  some  authentic  clue  ? 
And  then,  in  the  moment  of  success,  he  disappears — 
pouf !"  And  Senor  Gonzales  disposed  of  the  un- 
known by  blowing  him  airily  from  the  tips  of  his 
fingers. 

"However,  we  have  the  treasure — the  main  point, 
is  it  not  ?  But  I  have  often  wondered —  " 

"If  you  would  like  to  hear  the  rest  of  the  story," 
said  Mr.  Shaw,  "we  are  in  a  position  to  enlighten 
you.  That  we  are  so,  is  due  entirely  to  this  young 
lady,  Miss  Virginia  Harding." 

The  Spaniard  rose,  and  made  obeisance  pro- 
foundly. He  resumed  his  seat,  prepared  to  listen — 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  297 

no  longer  the  government  official,  but  the  cordial 
and  interested  guest  and  friend. 

The  story,  of  course,  was  a  long  one.  Everybody 
took  a  hand  in  the  telling,  even  Cookie,  who  was 
summoned  from  his  retirement  in  the  kitchen  to  re- 
ceive the  glory  due  him  as  a  successful  strategist. 
The  journal  of  Peter  was  produced,  and  the  bags 
of  doubloons  handed  over  to  the  representative  of 
the  little  republic.  I  even  offered  to  resign  the  silver 
shoe-buckle  which  I  had  found  in  the  secret  locker 
on  the  Island  Queen,  but  this  excess  of  honesty  re- 
ceived its  due  reward. 

"The  doubloons  being  now  in  the  possession  of 
the  Santa  Marinan  nation,  I  beg  that  you  will  con- 
sider as  your  own  the  Island  Queen  and  all  it  may 
contain,"  said  Don  Enrique  to  me  with  as  magnifi- 
cent an  air  as  though  the  sand-filled  hulk  of  a 
wrecked  sloop  were  really  a  choice  gift  to  bestow  on 
a  young  woman. 

Plans  were  discussed  for  transferring  the  pirates 
from  the  cave  to  the  cutter,  for  they  were  to  be  taken 
to  Santa  Marina  to  meet  whatever  punishment  was 
thought  fit  for  their  rather  indefinite  ill-doing.  They 
had  not  murdered  us,  they  had  robbed  us  of  noth- 


298  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

ing  but  the  provisions  they  had  eaten,  they  had, 
after  all,  as  much  right  on  the  island  as  ourselves. 
Yet  there  remained  their  high-handed  conduct  in  in- 
vading our  camp  and  treating  us  as  prisoners,  with 
the  threat  of  darker  possibilities.  I  fancy  that  Santa 
Marinan  justice  works  mainly  by  rule  of  thumb,  and 
that  the  courts  do  not  embarrass  themselves  much 
with  precedents.  Only  I  hope  they  did  not  shoot 
the  picturesque  Tony  against  a  wall.* 

The  power-schooner,  manned  by  a  crew  from  the 
cutter,  was  to  be  taken  to  Santa  Marina  also. 
Senor  Gonzales  remained  with  us  for  the  day  as  our 
guest,  and  on  the  next  the  boats  from  the  cutter 
took  off  the  pirates  from  the  cave.  We  did  not  see 
them  again.  Through  the  convenient  elasticity  of 
Santa  Marinan  procedure,  Mr.  Tubbs  was  herded 
along  with  the  rest,  although  he  might  plausibly,  if 
hypocritically,  have  pleaded  that  he  had  complied 

*  Since  the  above  was  written,  Mr.  Shaw  has  run  across 
Tony  on  the  San  Francisco  water-front.  Tony  tells  him  that 
they  got  off  with  three  months'  imprisonment.  The  American 
consul  interested  himself  and  the  schooner  was  restored  to 
her  owners,  who  were  Tony's  relations  and  hence  did  not 
prosecute.  Before  the  discharged  prisoners  left  the  republic 
Captain  Magnus  was  stabbed  over  a  card  game  by  a  native. 
Mr.  Tubbs  married  a  wealthy  half-caste  woman,  the  owner 
of  a  fine  plantation,  but  a  perfectly  genuine  Mrs.  Tubbs  from 
Peoria  turned  up  later,  and  the  too  much  married  H.  H.  was 
obliged  to  achieve  one  of  his  over-night  Sittings. 


TWIXT  CUP  AND  LIP  299 

with  the  will  of  the  invaders  under  duress.  Aunt 
Jane  wept  very  much,  and  handed  me  Pceans  of  Pas- 
sion with  the  request  that  she  might  never  see  it 
again. 

We  parted  from  Sefior  Gonzales  not  without  re- 
grets. It  was  an  impressive  leave-taking — indeed, 
Senor  Gonzales  in  his  least  word  and  gesture  was 
impressive.  Also,  he  managed  subtly  and  respect- 
fully to  impart  to  me  the  knowledge  that  he  shared 
Titian's  tastes  in  the  matter  of  hair.  On  his  de- 
parture he  made  a  pretty  little  speech,  full  of  com- 
pliments and  floral  specimens,  and  bestowed  upon 
me — as  being  mine  by  right,  he  earnestly  protested 
— the  two  bags  of  Spanish  doubloons. 


XXI 

THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST 

WE  waited  nine  days  for  the  coming  of  the 
Rufus  Smith.  During  that  time  an  episode 
occurred  as  a  result  of  which  I  sat  one  morning  by 
myself  on  the  rocks  beside  the  sloop,  on  which  such 
ardent  hopes  had  been  centered,  only  like  the  dere- 
lict itself  to  be  wrecked  at  last.  It  was  a  lonely  spot 
and  I  wanted  to  be  alone.  I  felt  abused,  and  sad, 
and  sore.  I  realized  that  I  was  destined  to  do  noth- 
ing but  harm  in  this  world,  and  to  hurt  people  I  was 
fond  of,  and  be  misunderstood  by  every  one,  and  to 
live  on — if  I  wasn't  lucky  enough  to  meet  with  a 
premature  and  sudden  end — into  a  sour,  lonely, 
crabbed  old  age,  when  I  would  wish  to  goodness  I 
had  married  anybody,  and  might  even  finish  by  ap- 
plying to  a  Matrimonial  Agency. 

As  I  sat  nursing  these  melancholy  thoughts  I 
heard  a  footstep.  I  did  not  look  up — for  I  knew  the 
footstep.  I  should  have  known  it  if  it  had  trodden 
over  my  grave. 

300 


THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  301 

"I  take  it  you  are  not  wanting  company,  you  have 
come  so  far  out  of  the  way  of  it,"  said  Dugald 
Shaw. 

Still  I  did  not  look  up. 

"Nobody  seemed  to  want  me,"  I  remarked  sulkily, 
after  a  pause.  He  made  no  reply,  but  seated  him- 
self upon  the  rocks.  For  a  little  there  was  silence. 

"Virginia,"  he  said  abruptly,  "I'm  thinking  you 
have  hurt  the  lad." 

"Oh,"  I  burst  out,  "that  is  all  you  think  of— the 
lad,  the  lad !  How  about  me  ?  Don't  you  suppose  it 
hurt  me  too?" 

"No,"  he  made  deliberate  answer.  "I  was  not 
sure  of  that.  I  thought  maybe  you  liked  having  men 
at  your  feet." 

"Liked  it  ?  Liked  to  wound  Cuthbert— Cuthbert  f 
Oh,  if  only  it  had  not  happened,  if  we  could  have 
gone  on  being  friends !  It  was  all  my  fault  for  go- 
ing with  him  into  the  cave.  It  was  after  you  had 
buried  the  skeleton,  and  I  wanted  to  see  poor  Peter's 
resting-place.  And  we  spoke  of  Helen,  and  it  was 
all  frightfully  melancholy  and  tender,  and  all  at 
once  he — he  said  it.  And  I  meant  he  never  should !" 
In  the  soreness  of  my  heart  I  began  to  weep. 

"There,  lassie,  there,  don't  cry!"  he  said  gently. 


302  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

"The  boy  didn't  speak  of  it,  of  course.  But  I  knew 
how  it  must  be.  It  has  hit  him  hard,  I  am  afraid." 

"I  suppose,"  I  wept,  "you  would  have  had  me 
marry  him  whether  I  wanted  to  or  not,  just  to  keep 
from  hurting  him." 

"No,"  he  answered  quickly.  "I  did  not  say  that 
— I  did  not  say  that  I  would  have  had  you  marry 
him.  No,  lass,  I  did  not  say  that." 

"Then  why  are  you  scolding  me?"  I  asked  in  a 
choked  whisper. 

"Scolding  you?  I  was  not.  It  was  only  that — 
that  I  love  the  lad — and  I  wish  you  both  so  well — 
I  thought  perhaps  there  was  some  mistake,  and — it 
would  not  matter  about  me,  if  I  could  see  you  both 
happy." 

"There  is  a  mistake,"  I  said  clearly.  "It  is  a  great 
mistake,  Dugald  Shaw,  that  you  should  come  to  me 
and  court  me — for  some  one  else." 

There  was  silence  for  a  while,  the  kind  of  silence 
when  you  hear  your  heartbeats. 

When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  unsteady. 

"But  the  boy  has  everything  to  offer  you — his  an- 
cient name,  his  splendid  unstained  youth,  a  heart 
that  is  all  loyalty.  He  is  strong  and  brave  and 
beautiful.  Virginia,  why  couldn't  you  love  him?" 


THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  303 

"I  could  not  love  him,"  I  replied,  very  low,  "be- 
cause my  love  was  not  mine  any  more  to  give.  It 
belongs  to — some  one  else.  Is  his  name  ancient?  I 
don't  know.  It  is  his,  and  he  ennobles  it.  Cuthbert 
has  youth,  but  youth  is  only  promise.  In  the  man 
I  love  I  find  fulfilment.  And  he  is  loyal  and  brave 
and  honest — I  am  afraid  he  isn't  beautiful,  but  I 
love  him  the  better  for  his  scars — " 

After  that  I  sat  quite  still,  and  I  knew  it  depended 
on  the  next  half  minute  whether  I  went  all  the  days 
of  my  life  crowned  and  glorious  with  happiness,  or 
buried  my  shame  and  heartbreak  under  the  waters 
of  the  cove. 

And  then  Dugald  Shaw  took  me  in  his  arms. 

By  and  by  he  said  huskily: 

"Beloved,  I  had  no  right  to  ask  you  to  share  such 
a  life  as  mine  must  be — the  life  of  a  poor  sailor." 

At  this  I  raised  my  head  from  its  nestling-place 
and  laughed. 

"Ask  me?  Silly,  I  asked  you!  Of  course  you 
could  have  refused  me,  but  I  depended  on  your  not 
having  the  courage." 

"And  indeed  that  is  a  charge  I'll  not  allow — that 
I  am  so  little  of  a  man  as  to  let  my  courting  be  done 
for  me.  No,  no,  it  was  my  love  compelling  you  that 


304  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

made  you  speak  the  words  you  did — the  love  of  a 
selfish  man  who  should  have  thought  only  of  shield- 
ing you  from  the  hardships  of  such  a  wandering, 
homeless  life  as  mine." 

"Well,  Heaven  reward  you  for  your  selfishness," 
I  said  earnestly.  "I  am  thankful  you  were  not  so 
noble  as  to  let  me  throw  myself  at  your  head  in  vain. 
I  have  been  doing  it  for  ever  so  long,  in  fact,  but  it 
is  such  a  thick  Scotch  head  that  I  dare  say  I  made  no 
impression." 

"Sweet  imp!  You'll  pay  for  that — oh,  Virginia, 
if  I  had  only  something  to  offer  you!" 

"You  can  offer  me  something  that  I  want  very 
much,  if  you  will,  and  at  no  cost  but  to  your  strong 
right  arm." 

"It  is  an  arm  which  is  at  your  service  for  life — 
but  what  am  I  to  do  with  it  now?  And  indeed  I 
think  it  is  very  well  employed  at  this  moment." 

"But  it  must  be  employed  much  more  stren- 
uously," I  remarked,  moving  a  little  away,  "if  you 
are  to  get  me  what  I  want.  Before  you  came,  I  was 
meditating  possible  ways  of  getting  it  for  myself.  I 
wanted  it  for  a  melancholy  relic — a  sort  of  mauso- 
leum in  which  all  my  hopes  were  buried.  Now  its 
purpose  is  quite  different ;  it  is  to  be  my  bride's  chest 


THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  305 

and  hold  the  dowry  which  I  shall  bring  to  one  Du- 
gald  Shaw." 

"You  mean  the  chest — the  chest  that  held  the 
Spanish  doubloons — that  lies  under  the  sand  in  the 
sloop?" 

"Exactly.  And  now  I  shall  know  whether  you 
are  the  true  prince  or  not,  because  he  always  suc- 
ceeds in  the  tasks  he  undertakes  to  win  the  prin- 
cess." 

It  was  low  tide,  such  a  tide  as  had  all  but  lured  me 
to  my  death  in  the  cave.  One  could  go  and  come 
from  the  beach  along  the  rocks,  without  climbing 
the  steep  path  up  the  cliff.  It  was  not  long  before 
Dugald  was  back  again  with  spade  and  pick.  He 
tore  off  the  shrunken,  sun-dried  boards  from  the 
cabin  roof,  and  fell  to  work. 

It  was  not,  after  all,  a  labor  of  Hercules.  The 
cabin  was  small  and  the  chest  large.  I  watched  with 
the  pride  of  proprietorship  the  swift  ease  with  which 
the  steel-sinewed  arms  of  the  Scot  made  the  caked 
sand  fly.  Then  the  spade  struck  something  which 
sent  back  a  dull  metallic  sound  through  the  muffling 
sand. 

I  gave  a  little  shriek  of  excitement.  Hardly  could 
I  have  been  more  thrilled  if  I  had  believed  the  chest 


306  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

still  to  contain  the  treasure  of  which  it  had  been 
ravished.  It  was  filled  to  its  brass-bound  lid  with 
romance,  if  not  with  gold. 

A  little  more  and  it  lay  clear  to  our  view,  a  con- 
vex surface  of  dark  smoky  brown,  crossed  by  three 
massive  strips  of  tarnished  brass.  Dugald  dug  down 
until  the  chest  stood  free  to  half  its  height;  then  by 
its  handles — I  recognized  the  "great  hand-wrought 
loops  of  metal,"  of  the  diary — we  dragged  it  from 
its  bed,  and  drew  it  forth  into  the  cockpit. 

For  a  little  while  we  sat  before  it  in  happy  con- 
templation. It  was  indeed  for  its  own  sake  quite 
well  worth  having,  that  sturdy  old  chest.  Even  in 
an  antique  shop  I  should  have  succumbed  to  it  at 
once ;  how  much  more  when  we  had  dug  it  up  our- 
selves from  a  wrecked  sloop  on  a  desert  island,  and 
knew  all  its  bloody  and  delightful  history. 

At  length,  kneeling  before  it,  I  raised  with  an 
effort  the  heavy  lid. 

"Empty,  of  course — no  more  brown  bags.  But 
oh,  Dugald,  had  ever  a  girl  such  a  wonderful  bride's 
chest  as  this?  O— oh!" 

"What's  wrong?" 

"Nothing,  only  there  is  a  crack  in  the  bottom, 
running  all  the  way  along  where  it  joins  the  side." 


THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  307 

"Warped  a  bit,  I  suppose.  No  matter,  it  can  be 
easily  repaired — crack?  I  say,  lassie,  look  here !" 

Under  the  pressure  of  Dugald's  fingers  the  floor 
of  the  chest  was  swinging  upward  on  an  invisible 
hinge.  Between  it  and  the  true  bottom  was  a  space 
of  about  three  inches  in  depth.  It  seemed  to  be  filled 
with  a  layer  of  yellowed  cotton- wool. 

For  a  long  moment  we  held  our  breath,  gazing  at 
each  other  with  eyes  which  asked  the  same  question. 
Then  Dugald  lifted  a  corner  of  the  sheet  of  cotton 
and  plucked  it  away. 

At  once  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow  seemed  to  be 
flashing  and  sparkling  before  us.  Rubies  were  there 
like  great  drops  of  the  blood  that  the  chest  and  its 
treasure  had  wrung  from  the  hearts  of  men; 
sapphires,  mirroring  the  blue  of  the  tropic  sky; 
emeralds,  green  as  the  island  verdure ;  pearls,  white 
as  the  milk  of  the  cocoanuts  and  softly  luminous  as 
the  phosphorescent  foam  which  broke  on  the  beach 
in  the  darkness.  And  there  were  diamonds  that 
caught  gleams  of  all  the  others'  beauty,  and  then 
mocked  them  with  a  matchless  splendor. 

Some  of  the  stones  lay  loose  upon  their  bed  of 
cotton ;  others  were  in  massive  settings  of  curious 
old-time  workmanship.  Every  gem  was  of  excep- 


308  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

tional  size  and  beauty,  the  pearls,  I  knew  at  once, 
were  the  rarest  I  had  ever  looked  upon.  They  were 
strung  in  a  necklace,  and  had  a  very  beautiful  pen- 
dant of  mingled  pearls  and  diamonds. 

There  were  nine  heavy  bracelets,  all  jewel-set; 
twenty-three  rings,  eight  of  them  for  the  hand  of 
a  man.  Some  of  these  rings  contained  the  finest  of 
the  diamonds,  except  for  three  splendid  unset 
stones.  There  were  numbers  of  elaborate  old-fash- 
ioned earrings,  two  rope-like  chains  of  gold  adorned 
with  jewels  at  intervals,  and  several  jeweled 
lockets.  There  was  a  solid  gold  snuff-box,  engraved 
with  a  coat  of  arms  and  ornamented  with  seventeen 
fine  emeralds.  There  were,  besides  the  three  dia- 
monds, eighty-two  unset  stones,  among  them, 
v/rapped  by  itself  in  cotton,  a  ruby  of  extraordinary 
size  and  luster.  And  there  was  a  sort  of  coronet  or 
tiara,  sown  all  over  with  clear  white  brilliants. 

There  is  the  inventory,  not  entirely  complete,  of 
the  treasure  which  we  found  hidden  under  the  false 
bottom  of  the  chest,  a  treasure  whose  existence  none 
of  those  who  had  striven  and  slain  and  perished  for 
the  sake  of  the  Spanish  doubloons  can  have  sus- 
pected. The  secret  of  it  died  with  the  first  guardian 


THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  309 

of  the  chest,  the  merchant  of  Lima  who  went  over- 
board from  the  Bonny  Lass  on  that  stormy  night 
ninety  years  ago.  Now  sea  and  sun  and  sand  had 
done  their  work  and  warped  the  wood  of  the  chest 
enough  to  make  us  masters  of  its  mystery.  And  we 
sat  in  the  sand-heaped  cock-pit  of  the  wrecked  sloop, 
playing  like  children  with  our  sparkling  toys. 

Ours?  Yes,  for  whether  or  not  there  were  an 
infection  of  piracy  in  the  very  air  of  the  island,  so 
that  to  seize  with  the  high  hand,  to  hold  with  the 
iron  grasp,  seemed  the  law  of  life,  we  decided  with- 
out a  qualm  against  the  surrender  of  our  treasure- 
trove  to  its  technical  owners.  Technical  only;  for 
one  felt  that,  in  essence,  all  talk  of  ownership  by 
this  man  or  that  had  long  ago  become  idle.  Fate 
had  held  the  treasure  in  fee  to  give  or  to  withhold. 
Sefior  Gonzales  had  had  his  chance  at  the  chest,  and 
he  had  missed  the  secret  of  the  hidden  hoard,  had 
left  it  to  lie  forgotten  under  the  sand  until  in  some 
tropic  storm  it  should  be  engulfed  by  the  waters  of 
the  cove.  More  than  this,  had  he  not  most  spe- 
cifically made  over  to  me  the  Island  Queen  and  all 
that  it  contained  ?  This  was  a  title  clear  enough  to 
satisfy  the  most  exacting  formalist.  And  we  were 


310  SPANISH  DOUBLOONS 

not  formalists,  nor  inclined  in  any  quibbling  spirit 
to  question  the  decrees  of  Fortune.  As  treasure- 
hunters,  we  had  been  her  devotees  too  long. 

So  after  all  it  was  not  my  scornful  skepticism  but 
the  high  faith  of  Miss  Higglesby-Browne  which  was 
justified  by  the  event,  and  the  Harding-Browne  ex- 
pedition left  the  island  well  repaid  for  its  toils  and 
perils.  Plus  the  two  bags  of  doubloons,  which  were 
added  to  the  spoils,  the  treasure  brought  us  a  sum  so 
goodly  that  I  dare  not  name  it,  for  fear  of  the  ap^ 
parition  of  Senor  Gonzales  and  the  Santa  Marinan 
navy  looming  up  to  demand  restitution.  Like  true 
comrades,  we  divided  share  and  share  alike,  and  be 
sure  that  no  one  grudged  Cookie  the  percentage 
which  each  was  taxed  for  his  benefit. 

Certain  of  the  rarest  jewels  were  not  sold,  but 
found  their  way  to  me  as  gifts  of  the  Expedition 
severally  and  collectively.  The  brightest  of  the  dia- 
monds now  shines  in  my  engagement  ring.  Cuth- 
bert,  by  the  way,  showed  up  so  splendidly  when  I 
explained  to  him  about  the  engagement — that  the 
responsibility  was  entirely  mine,  not  Dugald's — that 
I  earnestly  wished  I  were  twins  so  that  one  of  me 
could  have  married  the  beautiful  youth — which  in- 
deed I  had  wished  a  little  all  the  time. 


THE  BISHOP'S  CHEST  311 

And  now  I  come  to  the  purpose  of  this  story — for 
though  well  concealed  it  has  had  one  from  the  be- 
ginning. It  is  to  let  Helen,  whoever  and  wherever 
she  may  be,  if  still  of  this  world,  know  of  the  fate  of 
Peter,  and  to  tell  her  that  when  she  asks  for  them 
she  is  to  have  my  most  cherished  relics  of  the 
island,  Peter's  journal  and  the  silver  shoe-buckle 
which  he  found  in  the  sand  of  the  treasure-cave  and 
was  taking  home  to  her. 

Only,  she  must  let  me  keep  Crusoe,  please. 


THE  END 


000  037  095    7 


